


The Ties that Bind - Legacy of a Hero

by cheddarbug



Series: The Ties that Bind [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But you know you love him, Conspiracy, Crystal Tower arc, Did you really think I would write a fic without sex in it?, Don't trust the Lalafell, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Haurchefant is a perv, Haurchefant is one smooth motherfucker, Hot Chocolate, I said this was a slow build, Late Night Conversations, Making Love, Minor Character Death, Much needed vacation, Nero's ego, Nero/Carine (briefly), Political Debates, Pre 3.0 Alphinaud is a little shit, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Smut, Surprise Kissing, Update tags as I go, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 207,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheddarbug/pseuds/cheddarbug
Summary: It's been nearly a year since the Garleans were driven out of Eorzea thanks to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their Warrior of Light, but things are not going as well as planned. Poverty still strickens the refugees outside Ul'dah's gates and soon Domans shall be added to the mix. Add to the growing list of problems, a ghost from Carine's recent past has returned with dire news from the Empire. Nero warns her, in exchange for a favor she will owe him of his choosing, that the new Emperor has a growing interest in the affairs of her beloved homeland.With the potential threat of the Empire in their future, Minfilia and Alphinaud are quick to attempt contact with the reclusive Ishgardians. Carine becomes the emissary for their cause, but no amount of training could prepare her for the likes of Haurchefant Greystone.Carine Monteil is about to find out just what it means to be a legend...the question remains, is it everything she imagined it to be?





	1. A Voice from the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! The next arc is up and going!!! My goal is to try to update weekly if possible, but life sometimes says "NO WRITING FOR U!" xD
> 
> This arc will most likely dwarf the previous one as I cover the aftermath of Operation Archon, the snippet of the Crystal Tower (because how can Nero NOT make an appearance in this story?!), the arrival of the Domans, the mysterious plans of Elidibus, and of course it's time to start introducing our favorite Ishgardians! This fic will take us all the way up to the beginning of Heavensward, my absolute favorite storyline in the whole series.
> 
> I'm starting with the mature warning because...as you know me...smut will get involved xD This time it comes with fluff! And warm fuzzies and hot chocolate <3 I'll update tags as I go, but I can assure you the WoL/Haurchefant thing isn't happening for a LONG time. So, apologies for the super slow burn there, but I promise it will be worth it! (I would say look at my Holding On series...but it never quite gets there though parts of it will definietly be mentioned within this fic).

“Cid, can you remind me why I agreed to this expedition in the first place?” Carine Monteil asked as she wiped blood that wasn’t hers from her cheek. The Elezen flung her wrists to rid herself of the substance only to give up because she was covered head to toe in the stuff. 

Her Garlean friend stopped himself just short of hugging her, once he noticed the grime soaked into her clothes and clinging to her skin. His nose wrinkled in disgust while he motioned for his assistants, Biggs and Wedge, to bring something for her to wash off. “I shouldn’t have to remind you what could have happened had Gaius been successful with the Ultima Weapon, lass.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Though it had been nearly a year since that fateful night, Carine remembered the details as though she had lived them only yesterday. 

Eorzea had gone through several bits of unrest in the days that had followed their victory over the Empire. It had been innocent at first; parades, parties, grand celebrations that seemed to never end as Eorzeans celebrated their  _ true _ freedom. Women that had been Drafted by the infamous marriage treaty were reunited with their friends and families, a seemingly happy occasion at the time. 

It was painfully short lived, thinking back on it now, as property disputes erupted over land the Garleans had built their outposts on. Wars raged and feuds ensued in the wake of their freedom as people tried to claim businesses and properties that the imperials had bought out years prior. It was a bloody mess in Thanalan as the Syndicate and Monetarists tried to satisfy the demands of the people there. At least in La Noscea the pirates had their own way of handling things like that, and in Gridania the land was just assumed to belong to the Twelveswood. 

It gave Carine a headache every time it was brought up. And it was brought up often considering that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn weren’t even safe from the fray. Despite the fact that it had been because of them Eorzea was free of the Empire’s grasp, the people within the city-states saw their residence in Thanalan as a problem. Those in Gridania and La Noscea thought it was unfair that the Scions resided in Vesper Bay, seeing it as extra protection for them alone. And those within Thanalan were more than happy to throw their weight around for that matter alone, often calling upon the Scions to settle their disputes for them.

Okay, so maybe Carine wasn’t just chin deep in monster guts and blood because she was worried what their enemies might find within this bloody tower should they go looking deep enough.

“Has there been any sightings of nosy imperials running around here?” she asked, graciously accepting the cloth that was offered to her. It wouldn’t do anything for the stain in her clothes, but it would at least wipe her skin clean.

Cid shook his head, white hair shifting with the motion. “Nay, but I think it better we prepare for the worst in case they do show up,” he replied, looking up at the door standing before them. “Besides, I don’t like that this place seems to have awakened.”

There were a lot of choice things Carine could have said she didn’t like about the place, but the fact it seemed to somehow be up and running made it the top issue on her list. The labyrinth she had just emerged from was testament enough to the strength possibly held within these ancient walls. If she could stop it from activating whatever ancient weapons were stored here, Carine would be glad to never see a bit of Allagan technology ever again.

“How goes the excavation?” A large Roegadyn named Rammbroes asked as he approached the two. Like Cid had, he taken one look at Carine and stepped back, his dark eyes widening at the sight of her. “I take it the labyrinth wasn’t too troubling?”

“Honestly? I would not turn down a hot meal or a nap at this moment,” she replied, tossing her rag to the ground. “And a shower too. I doubt I’ll ever get this out of my hair.”

His laughter echoed in the chamber, rumbling along the walls. “I’d say you have earned it, Warrior of Light. It is the least I could do to thank you for your efforts.”

Carine smiled and thanked him while she removed her bow from her back. Being this legendary hero to her people certainly had its rewards. When she asked for something, usually she managed to get it. Her mother was the only person that reminded her not to be too greedy with this new power she found, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t bask in the glory of it all occasionally. 

Besides, she really did need a bath.

The members of the Sons of Saint Coinach quickly began erecting tents while Cid went over his progress with Rammbroes on what else they could try to open the gates that stood in their way. G’raha Tia, the ever friendly and outgoing Miqo’te of their party, was standing with Unei and Doga, whispering back and forth with them as they stared up at the vast golden doors that barred their path. 

They were an odd couple, though Carine figured that most scholars were. Quiet and soft spoken, the young man and woman had appeared to them the day after they had managed to bring down the Crystal Tower’s elemental defenses with their dark hair and unsettling red eyes. They claimed to have been sent by the Students of Baldesion, but given the troubles currently known to the Scions concerning Isle of Val, that seemed unlikely. Still, they seemed knowledgeable of all things Allagan, which had earned them high points with the likes of Cid.

“Ho there friend! I suspect that bath just taken to that tent was meant for you?” G’raha smiled, his cat-like ears flicking playfully in her direction. 

“I certainly hope so. Care to share your whisperings with the students while I rid myself of this stink?” Carine asked, motioning for him to follow her.

The bathing tent was small, no bigger than for one person at a time, which offered some semblance of privacy. G’raha bowed as she entered, perching himself on a stool just outside while she shed her ruined clothes tossed them through the flap. She hissed as she dipped her toes into the heated water and held her breath as she forced her aching muscles into the small tub designed for travel. 

“So, what do the experts of Allag have to say about our blocked path?” she asked as her body adjusted to the warm temperature. 

“Nothing, at least nothing they have shared yet with me. As far as I can tell, it’s nothing more than a decorative door depicting Allagan royalty,” he replied. 

Carine frowned. “It seemed as though you were having quite the in depth conversation just a few minutes ago whilst looking at it. If you were not discussing what our options were, pray tell, what  _ were _ you discussing?”

“My eye,” he answered honestly, though there was a note of concern in his usual peppy voice. “They say it’s like theirs.”

She didn’t have to question which eye he was referring to. While it was fairly common among the Miqo’te to have odd eyes, G’raha’s were stranger still. One was a deep, forest green that reminded her of the Twelveswood and home. The other was a bright, almost menacing sanguine that was unusual as a rule. Unei and Doga, while having similarly red eyes themselves, theirs weren’t so quite devastatingly bright in comparison. 

“Interesting, but what does that mean? You have some Hyur in your lineage?” she giggled, scrubbing the blood that had now dried and stained her silver hair. 

“Apparently it means I am bound by fate to Allag, whatever that means,” she heard him shrug. “My father had it, and his father before him. I don’t remember their fates being tied to Allag’s.”

“Mayhap they are mistaken?”

It was a few moments of uncharacteristic silence before the man replied, “Mayhap.”

“Word for the wise,” Carine went on, giving up on getting the stain out of her hair and moving on to the blood crusting on the rest of her. “I’d not mention it to Cid if I were you. The man has a million questions about anything Allagan as is. You’ll likely never get him to stop if you get him started.”

A hearty, warm laugh rewarded her jest as G’raha agreed. “Hey, you almost done in there? I’d like to freshen up myself unless you have allowed all that hot water to get cold?”

She glanced down at the water that was now an odd, ugly shade of reddish pink as the blood she rinsed off herself mingled with the soap she had used. “Er...I thought cats didn’t like water?”

“They like to stink much less,” he quipped. 

“Then by all means, there’s plenty of hot water left. I doubt you’ll want to use it though,” she warned him with a smile, standing up and out of the tub. 

He must have heard her for his arm reached in holding a fluffy towel and a cotton robe. She accepted both items graciously, drying her body off as quickly as possible before the chill in the cavern could get to her. Once her robe was wrapped tightly and securely around her waist, she stepped out of the tent and shivered. 

“I think Cid had your place set up close to ours. If fresh clothes and sleeping bags aren’t waiting for you, they should be here within the next bell. Rammbroes stays on top of things,” G’raha pointed her in the right direction before dipping into the tent himself. She waited outside just a moment before hearing the Miqo’te hiss and stalk out, his red tail fluffed up and thrashing back and forth. “That’s disgusting!”

Carine chuckled to herself as her newest friend stormed off in a fit to find someone that would be willing to get fresh water. The makeshift camp was a bustle of activity as archaeologists and collectors poured over every detail in the grand hall they were staying in. She couldn’t imagine what the Allagans had that required so much height, she had thought to herself when she looked up to see the tall ceiling. Even Ultima would have been dwarfed in this place. 

She found her tent easily enough along with fresh clothes, fresh bedding, and a hot meal waiting for her. Cid was already sitting in front of a crate he used as a desk, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bread while scribbling who knew what onto a sheet of paper. Biggs and Wedge were arguing behind him over the position of their tent in relation to the golden doors and getting absolutely nowhere. 

“Any luck cracking the mystery of our vault here?” she asked him, gracefully crossing her legs as she took a seat next to the Garlean.

Out of all the Scions and their associates, Cid was her closest friend. The man was steadfast and kind to her, like most people, but he was the only person that she shared anything in common. They had both suffered a great loss the night of Operation Archon and in turn offered support for each other. Often, she had nearly confessed to the Garlean that she hadn’t killed Nero that night, his former friend and bitter rival, but every time she tried she found that she couldn’t get the words out. It wasn’t as though she knew what became of the man that had been her husband, forced on her by the marriage treaty between Garlemald and Eorzea. As far as she was concerned, he had been swallowed up by the devastation that followed Ultima’s destruction along with Gaius van Baelsar. 

“Not at all,” he sighed, putting his pencil down and rubbing his eyes. “I’ve tried  _ everything. _ I scanned for mechanisms, I looked for them with my own two eyes. I attempted to just pull the bloody doors apart and still I have nothing to show for it.”

“Did you try blowing them up?” she asked, half joking, half serious. 

“Thrice,” he replied. “Much to the scholar’s displeasure. Those doors didn’t move an ilm.”

That was a bit of a problem. Carine thoughtfully chewed on her food for several minutes, weighing their options. “What if I did my thing? You know, an arrow or spear of light? I could at least give it a shot?” she offered. 

Cid shook his head and tugged at his beard. “Nay, lass. Even if your powers manifested at your every whim, I’d rather not have you use them on a door. We know not what lies on the other side. It’s best if you save your strength.”

“Well, if you insist,” she smiled, finishing off the food on her plate and rising to her feet. She didn’t have to be told twice to get some sleep, not when it came to camping out these days.

It had become common practice for Minfilia and the other Scions to send Carine out on various missions that mostly required their attention. One week she might be camped out in Thanalan, watching the Amalj’aa as they went about their daily lives. Another she might be following a caravan of crystals through La Noscea to make sure the Kobolds weren’t desperately seeking a means to summon Titan. Once, they had been lax on things in the Twelveswood, somehow miscalculating the number of shipments traveling at one time which had lead to Garuda being summoned. Thankfully Carine had been with her mother at the time and had been able to meet Cid quickly to defeat the eikon and detain the Ixal that had become enthralled. 

When one never knew when or how much sleep they were going to get, one always found a way to make the best of what time they were given. And it wasn’t but a few moments after she had settled into her bedroll that the Warrior of Light had drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

The next morning, Carine woke at what she assumed was dawn. It was impossible to tell deep within the cavern as they were, but judging from the activity already flitting about the camp, she assumed her guess was good.

She ate her breakfast with G’raha and Cid, the two of them spending their time debating on whether or not they had somehow taken a wrong passage that had lead them to a dead end. G’raha was convinced it was nothing more than a mural while Cid was convinced that it was a door. Carine honestly didn’t care so long as they decided on what it was soon. If she lingered here too long, her mother was sure to worry.

With nothing to fight, and few warriors to train with, Carine found herself incredibly bored within a couple bells. She attempted to help some of the scholars collect bits and pieces for their research, but when they had her picking up nothing but what seemed like useless rubble, she excused herself. She decided that her time was better spent sharpening her daggers and making new arrowheads from the stone that littered the floor. 

It wasn’t long before she noticed Unei and Doga approaching the golden gate, their eyes locked on each figure carved into its surface. Cid and G’raha seemed to notice their deliberate approach at the same time as the Warrior of Light, for they all followed in behind them at the same time. The two unusual Hyurs both reached out simultaneously, almost as if to push the doors open, but Cid stopped them.

“If you’re thinking to force it, save your strength,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “It’s no use - just ask the calluses on my hands.”

Unei turned to them, black hair framing her pale face as she smiled upon Cid. “Rest assured, we have no intention of wasting our strength,” she told him, looking towards her partner. 

Doga nodded in agreement, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “Besides, why should we exert ourselves when the doors shall open of their own accord?”

Carine looked inquisitively at the Miqo’te standing beside her but was only answered with an exasperated shrug. 

“Aren’t  _ you _ also with the Students of Baldesion?” she asked in a hushed whisper as she watched the strange Hyurs raise their hands again. “Who are these people?”

“It’s not like all the scholars know each other,” he hissed, ears flattening against his head. “Some of us specialize in different aspects of Allagan history.”

Their conversation was made short as light shot out from both Unei’s and Doga’s hands, lighting the door before them in a brilliant display of what Carine could only assume was magic. She reached for her bow, cursing as she realized she had left it carelessly in her tent while these two - whatever they were - illuminated the whole cavern with their ability. 

As if the golden gate had been picked with the right key, blue light began coursing through the deep rivets etched into its surface until the image of the Allagan royalty on either side was outlined in magic or technology or a mixture of both. 

Everyone stood in awe of the spectacle as the doors shifted, parting down the middle and shining a bright light upon the excavation party before them. Instinct drove Carine to cover her nose and hold her breath as old air hissed through the opening. Others weren’t so lucky, coughing and sputtering as stale air and dust blew into their faces while the doors opened further to reveal another passage beyond.

G’raha stared open mouthed through it all, shaking his head in disbelief as he tried to comprehend what had just happened while Carine patted Cid on the back to help knock the dust and dirt from his lungs. 

“What the - how did you - I...don’t think any of us expected  _ that _ to happen!” the Miqo’te exclaimed, his lion-like tail almost wagging in excitement. 

Like Carine, Cid looked upon their unusual companions with distrust and a touch of fear. “What in Seven Hells? Who, no what, are you?” he asked, beating on his chest to expel the last of the dust.

“‘Piercing the heavens and gathering the light, a symbol of mankind’s glory and might’,” a voice recited clearly in the silence that followed, echoing down the hall and stopping Carine’s heart mid-beat.

_ Oh no… _ she thought, eyes widening as she froze, listening to the deliberate steps that approached them all from behind. 

“‘Its virtue guarded by gates impregnable, only to those of royal blood answerable’...I believe the legend goes?” the all too familiar sneer went on, closer now than it was before. 

Carine’s breathing had shortened, lips quivering as she refused to meet Cid’s confused gaze. She  _ really _ wished that she had her bow now as she listened to the hushed whispers concerning the intruder. 

“This is a private excavation, sir. You have no right in being here,” Rammbroes ordered, blocking the man from view just as Carine turned around. 

“Oh, you are just simply mistaken, my large friend,” the voice seemed to smile. “I’m with  _ them. _ ”

Rammbroes turned, casting a questioning look over his shoulder at the five people standing before the doors. “You know this man?” he asked, stepping to the side.

Carine’s eyes went straight to the floor, knowing who she was going to see long before she had to look at his face. That didn’t stop her from looking at the elaborate traveling boots he wore all the way up to the outlandish trench coat that hugged in tightly at his trim waist. If his personal style didn’t give him away, then the obvious golden ‘third eye’ in the middle of his brow playing peek-a-boo behind his signature blond curl that fell over his face surely did.

“Why hello, my dear  _ wife. _ ”


	2. A Lesson In Allagan History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Again with darkness,” Cid said, tugging at his beard. “What is it with megalomaniacal leaders turning to darkness in their lust for power?"_

Silence impregnated the air as her lilac gaze met his ice blue. No one dared even breathe as the two faced each other; her face a mask of barely controlled anger and his smugly satisfied. 

“Did...did he just call you  _ wife? _ ” G’raha asked incredulously, his odd eyes flicking between the two in the midst of his confusion. “A  _ Garlean? _ ”

It was common enough knowledge that Carine had, indeed, been Drafted thanks to the marriage treaty between Eorzea and Garlemald. It was also common knowledge that she had forsaken those vows and killed the Garlean she had been forced into marrying. Little did they know that those “vows” were nothing more than a contract on a slip of paper that held no meaning if the union wasn’t blessed by the gods and that she hadn’t actually  _ killed _ her husband. That was a secret she held near and dear to herself. As luck would have it, the people of Eorzea were quick to forget her former arrangement, eager to put it in the past and rise her up their hero and savior. Their blind faith in her kept all her misgivings hiding safely in the dark, carefully locked away from the world so long as Nero stayed hidden himself.

But,  _ of course, _ he couldn’t bloody do that.

“I did,” Nero smirked. “You look well, little bird. It seems heroism suits you,” he went on, walking past the Roegadyn that had previously been blocking his path. 

“Nero?! You’re...alive? How?” Cid asked, his mouth hung open as and brow furrowed as thought he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“You see, when your little warrior met me in the-” Before he could share how she had let him walk free with the entirety of the Sons of Saint Coinach, Carine stomped forward and punched him in the face. While he was distracted, she grabbed a bit of rope sitting on the ground and tied his hands together. 

“It seems my work here is done. Cid? Care to help me restrain our prisoner?” she asked her slack-jawed companion, motioning with her head while keeping a firm hand placed over Nero’s protesting mouth. 

For a moment, the Garlean didn’t seem remotely interested in helping her to her tent, but eventually he caved with a roll of his eyes while G’raha distracted the onlookers. 

This was a bloody mess. A right bloody mess. With one fell swoop, Nero had just nearly undone everything the Scions had put in place to protect her identity and her link to the Empire. If it weren’t for the fact that it had been her idea to let him live, Carine would have been tempted to strangle the bastard for his ill-timed intervention. 

“What in Seven bloody Hells were you  _ thinking? _ ” she spat as she tossed the man into her tent. “Do you have any idea what you may have just done?”

“Do  _ you _ realize that you might’ve broken my nose?” he shot back, pulling at his restraints with growing frustration. 

“I want to know what in Seven Hells is going on,” Cid said, looking between the two of them in accusation. “Carine, you said he was dead.”

She bit her tongue as she put her hands on her hips and looked towards the top of the tent. “No, I never said that he died. You just assumed that I did and I never corrected you.”

“That’s the same bloody thing!” Cid said, his voice barely above a heated whisper. 

Nero let out an aggravated huff, “Garlond, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were unhappy to see me. Here I was hoping you might be  _ delighted _ to learn that I yet live.”

“Quiet you,” Cid warned and then turned his attention back to Carine. “Do you have any idea what this could do to the Scions’ credibility?”

“Well, it’s not as if you  _ must _ tell them. I assure you, I am no longer a threat,” Nero replied for her, earning himself another glare. 

“Do you think us gullible? After the wrongs you committed?” Cid pinched the bridge of his nose. “And yes, contrary to what our  _ friend _ just said, we  _ do _ have to tell them. We can’t risk it with him running around Eorzea, not without consequences more dire than the ones you already face.”

Carine held up a hand, urging Cid to just shut up for a minute while she sorted out her thoughts. This was bad. She knew it, he knew it, Hells even Nero knew it, which is probably why he showed up in the first place. There was no reason they could trust that he wasn’t a threat like he claimed, but why would he walk into their midsts without his armor or his weapon and seemingly no backup?

“Why are you here?” Carine asked, bending down to get a good look at his face. His nose was red from where she had punched him earlier, but there was no bruising or knots to indicate that she had broken it. 

Well, damn.

He smiled, flashing her a brilliant set of teeth that momentarily awoke the butterflies that she had thought long since died the day he left. “Oh I could hardly sit back knowing that Cid was digging around a piece of ancient Allag, now could I?” he replied. 

“All the more reason to toss him off the top,” Cid murmured beside her, and the Elezen couldn’t quite disagree. This was exactly what they had feared, if not worse. It was one thing if just any random imperial soldier was sniffing around the Crystal Tower searching for the secrets it held. It was quite another that it was the mastermind behind reviving the Ultima Weapon doing so.

“Ah, suspicious of my intent,” Nero nodded in understanding. “Just as your suspicions are, I am determined to make amends. As a gesture of goodwill, I will gladly tell you everything I know.”

“And what do you glean from this?” Carine asked. She had no interest in playing his games or finding herself caught in a trap of his design so that he could use her for his experiments. 

He had the nerve to look aghast at her suggestion, his blue eyes widening in mock horror. She imagined he would have even put a hand to his chest, given his dramatic performance. “I cannot believe my  _ wife _ would question my intention after I just professed to wishing to make amends!”

“I. Am. Not. Your. Wife.” Carine accented each word with a jab to his chest. “The treaty was made void once your troops withdrew, and thus our marriage with it.”

“Be that as it may, had we not  _ willingly _ consummated our union I would be more apt to agree with you. 

“Oh for the love of the Twelve,” Cid cursed, echoing her frustration. 

Just then, G’raha Tia entered the tent, his face a mask of concern and confusion as he looked questionably at his companions. “I did what I could to stop their inquiries, but there is little to be done for the rumors already flying,” he said and then flicked his ears towards the Garlean tied on the ground. “Who  _ is _ he?”

Nero took this opportunity to speak up for himself, ignoring the way Carine ran her hands through the long waves of silvery hair around her face. “Nero tol Scaeva, former Tribune of the XIVth Legion and former second in command to Gaius van Baelsar,” he introduced himself, flashing his most charming smile. “Ah, and the husband to your glorious Warrior of Light.”

“I  _ really, _ wish you would stop considering me your fucking wife,” the Elezen spat. 

The Miqo’te pulled at his chin, tail swaying in thought. “I thought the Garlean you had been married to perished during the battle?”

“There were...complications…” Carine said, twisting her fingers together. 

“What she means to say that I am not so easily disposed of as my former compatriots,” Nero beamed.

“Like a bloody cockroach,” Cid muttered under his breath, wiping that smile straight from his lips in an instant. 

“So,” the Miqo’te began, turning his full attention to Nero. “That explains who you are, but why are you here? What use do you have with the tower?”

Ah, but that  _ was _ the question he was eager to know himself. As far as he knew, there were countless Allagan secrets to behold within the blue spire. Whether it be their mysterious history lost to the ages or their advanced technology just  _ waiting _ to be awoken and played with, Nero was sure to find something within. He wasn’t so eager to spill his every whim to them, though he was positive that Cid and Carine already had a good idea as to his primary intentions. Who those intentions might benefit, however, they didn’t have to know. 

“Garlond is well aware of my appreciation for anything Allagan. It has been a focused study of mine since I was but a lad in the Academy,” he explained easily. “Your Warrior of Light is well aware of just how  _ good _ I am at restoring such ancient technology, as she was the first hand witness of its might. When I heard of this little excavation the Sons of Saint Coinach were doing, I simply couldn’t  _ resist _ lending you my aid.”

His cat-eared acquaintance turned his ginger head to the others. “Does he speak true?”

_ Do I speak true! How in Seven Hells do they not know it was I that restored Ultima? _ Nero grumbled to himself as the others nodded reluctantly in response. 

“I wouldn’t trust him, G’raha,” Carine warned. “If he’s here, it’s because there’s something he wants.”

Clever little wench. It’s been an entire year and she still remembers the way he works. That long memory should continue to serve him well, should all go according to plan. “Well of course. To know more about the civilization long since fallen from grace. It would be wise to learn from their mistakes, would it not?”

“So, a student of Allag?” G’raha asked, twitching his tail back and forth. “What knowledge could you lend us that we do not yet already know?”

“A most excellent question! One I have been eager to relay to our more...suspicious friends concerning the two people you travel with,” Nero grinned, winking at Carine. “As you are well aware, this tower you have been seeking entrance to was once the symbol of Ancient Allag’s prosperity and might. As such, only members of the royal family and a select few others were permitted within. However,” he went on, giving the explanation to the Miqo’te alone as he seemed his best chance at getting into the expedition. “According to the texts I have studied, only those of royal blood can open the gates.”

G’raha took a step back, tail twitching madly. “You mean to say Unei and Doga are descended from Allagan royalty?” 

“As if the Allagans would be foolish enough to rely on reproduction alone to pass their genetic key,” Nero scoffed. And  _ they _ considered themselves Allagan scholars! “What they are is far more ingenious than progeny. They are  _ imitations _ of royalty - living keys of Allagan ingenuity.”

“Clones?” Cid asked, raising his head from where it had been resting in his hands. 

If anyone would understand the importance of why and how to create clones, Nero knew beyond the shadow of a doubt it would be a fellow Garlean. Their kind had been on the brink of extinction thanks to their unique genetics that allowed them to have far too large a ratio of males to females. Had it not been for the late Emperor organizing his people and expanding into other territories to claim brides and continue their proud lineage, they would have surely been wiped out years ago. If someone were to discover the ability to replicate and modify genes...well, there would be no reason to rely upon the inconsistencies of calling upon brides. 

Besides, why conscript unwilling soldiers when one could simply clone those that were programmed to obey any and all orders?

“Precisely that!” Nero nodded, knowing that his friend was far more likely to look at the silver lining when it came to the benefits of Garlean society rather than focus on the potential threat to his new home it may have. “You know as well as I that our females are few and far between, and even then we still have trouble with conception.”

The Miqo’te seemed to consider this as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Your friend seems to hold valuable information to our venture. While I don’t wish to overstep your authority concerning his former position within the Empire, I cannot deny that we could use him to our benefit.”

“Absolutely not!” Carine practically shouted, jumping to her feet. His little bird’s face was flushed red, her eyes narrowed into slits. Even now her hands were clenched at her sides as she shook her head back and forth in her little tantrum. 

“Carine,” Cid’s voice said calmly. “I agree with our friend here.”

Nero was quite surprised. He hadn’t expected his rival to agree with him so quickly and decisively on the matter, let alone speak against her judgement. The only person in the tent more surprised than him, was Carine. 

He watched with amusement as her face went from anger to bewilderment and then flat out into another rage. “How can you say that? After everything he did? After all he  _ could _ have done?”

“I understand, lass, better than most,” the Garlean replied wearily. “But he has had access to records that we could never dream of and most likely has the knowledge committed to memory. We don’t know what awaits us within the tower, let alone what is powering it.”

“And if he seeks to take that power? Or use it against us?” 

Cid gave her a half smile. “That’s what we have you for.”

“If I may,” Nero interjected. “If I had any intent to take you by force, I wouldn’t have come alone. I am no stranger to your skills in battle and I would be a fool to think I could face you without aid.”

Carine forced out a heavy sigh and pulled her fingers through her hair along the top of her head. She was outnumbered three to one in a war of words, not swords...or arrows in her case. “I still think this is a bad idea. A  _ very _ bad idea,” she told them. “Not to mention we have to find a way to explain who he is and why he’s here.”

“We can claim he is a former colleague of mine, an expert in the field of Ancient Allag,” Cid said. “I contacted him sometime before the expedition and never received word back. It would stand to reason that any Garlean found in contact with a defunct as myself would stand trial for treason, thus justifying my initial shock at his arrival.”

Nero was impressed at his quick thinking and even applauded him mentally. There was the hint of the Cid he knew from his childhood hiding within. 

“Great. Lovely. Now, how in Seven Hells do I explain why he called me  _ wife? _ ”

“Easy, little bird. You betrayed the Empire when you stood against it and supposedly struck your husband down,” Nero reminded her with a devious wink. “Consider it less a term of endearment and more of an insult to your treachery.”

“And if anyone begs to question further, your job is to keep the realm safe from all threats. Him being a Garlean would be reason enough to justify your quick action in arresting him on the spot...and his release agreeable once Cid took the time to explain the misunderstanding, yes?” G’raha helpfully added. 

It wasn’t the best explanation to worm their way out of the corner he had strategically put them in, but it wasn’t unbelievable. The people of Eorzea were quick to put their savior upon a pedestal, easily turning a blind eye or a deaf ear to her misgivings. Their unquestionable loyalty to Carine would work in their favor and ultimately his if Nero were to play his cards right. 

“I can’t believe we are going through with this,” Carine complained as she unsheathed a hidden blade from her boot and cut his bindings. “Do not make us regret letting you go.”

With his hands free, Nero rubbed his wrists where the rough rope had chaffed him, grinning all the while. There was no point in reassuring her that he meant no ill-will against them, no matter how true that might be, when she was already convinced that he did. 

When they exited the tent, it came as no surprise that all eyes turned on them. Some of them were suspicious while others were surprised, if not a little frightened, upon seeing the Garlean out of his bindings. Cid, the mastermind behind their deceit, immediately trotted over to the tall, dark, and giant Roegadyn to explain the situation while the Warrior of Light kept her cautious eyes focused on Nero. 

_ At least that will serve true to our little lie, _ he thought to himself as he warmly introduced himself to the man they called Rammbroes. Just as he had suspected, the Roegadyn and his fellows were quick to believe their story and more than eager to accept someone that knew anything about Allag, much less someone that could be considered an expert on the subject. 

For once, Nero was grateful that no one seemed to know who he truly was. 

 

***

 

“So, you aren’t from the Students of Baldesion?” Rammbroes asked as he was lead aside to join the primary team. 

“Pray, forgive us of our deception, ‘twas not our intent,” Doga replied. 

Unei nodded in agreement. “It was likely you would not have believed us had we prematurely admitted to what most would have considered deranged claims.”

It was easy to understand their predicament, as Carine herself was still unsure of how to process that they were clones of people that lived long ago, but troubling all the same. Already she was quickly scribbling a letter to the Scions to send more soldiers if it were possible, just to keep the number of surprise visitors to their expedition limited to their current three. She made sure to carefully exclude the mention of Nero, believing it better that she come clean about her momentary weakness in person than through letters on a page. 

“According to texts I have studied concerning Allagan history, there was mention of  _ two _ emperor’s named Xande,” Rammbroes said. “We have been of the belief that one was the namesake of the other, but your claims allow me to believe that they were one in the same.”

“Aye,” Doga smiled, pleased to see their leader grasping the concept. “It was an Allagan technologist that sought to restore Allag to its former glory believing that its founding ruler would succeed. It was Amon’s experiments which lead to our creation and ultimately Xande’s resurrection.”

Carine looked up from her scribbling, paying more attention now than before as Gaius’ words echoed in her heart.  _ Only a man of power can steer the course of civilization… _ To think that an empire as great as that of Ancient Allag had resorted to resurrecting a powerful icon in their weakness. It eerily paralleled the not so recent past that had threatened Eorzea not even a year ago. “If he was successful in bringing this powerful emperor back, why did he take the time to recreate you?” she asked.

“We were but humble clones, two of many,” Doga explained. “Though we cannot claim that he is the reason for our sole purpose.”

“Aye, when Xande had risen again to claim the throne, our creators supported him and stood at his side. Alas, his former life’s desire was to bring all manner of life under the dominion of the Allagan Empire. In order to achieve such a goal, Xande consorted with darkness. Unei and Doga fought with all the power they had against him, fearing what the world might become.”

Flashes of the dark crystal blinded her vision for a moment, a warning from the Echo if she had to guess. Carine squinted her eyes and rubbed at her temple, an act not overlooked by Cid. 

“Again with darkness,” Cid said, tugging at his beard. “What is it with megalomaniacal leaders turning to darkness in their lust for power? I am at least grateful that this one is a thousand years dead and buried.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Nero chuckled from where he was standing. “I’d say there is more yet to be told, yes?”

The clones nodded, casting an apologetic look towards Cid. “Would that we could agree with you, Master Garlond. Alas, Emperor Xande is very much alive.”

“How?! Did the Allagans learn how to unlock immortality as well?” G’raha Tia exclaimed in horror, his ears pinning backwards and his lion tail fluffing at the thought. 

“Oh no, not as you would expect it at any rate,” Unei soothed him with a smile. “You see, the tower itself could not produce enough power to allow Xande to efficiently wield the darkness, thus lead to the creation and ascension of Dalamud. It absorbed the sun’s energy and channeled it into the tower below until a miscalculation created a surge of energy into and throughout the land.”

_ The Fourth Calamity, _ Carine thought as she put two and two together. She may not know much of Ancient Allag and she may not have studied Eorzean history as she should have, but she did know that the Fourth Calamity was what had brought about the total destruction of the ancient civilization.  _ They unknowingly created their own downfall...all for the sake of power. _

The Elezen looked to Nero, whose face remained impassive as he listened to the clones’ explanation. Would that she could read his mind and see what he was planning this very moment. Mayhap even warn him against whatever it was he sought. Clearly the man knew more about the goings on within the tower than he had informed them, but there was no guarantee he would confess to it. 

“Then shouldn’t he be dead?” G’raha asked with a tilt of his head.

“He would be had Amon not invoked powerful magicks that halted the flow of time, thus putting all within the tower into a deep slumber,” Unei replied. “Eras came and went until the fall of Dalamud. It was in the wake of the Seventh Umbral Calamity that the tower did awaken, us and Xande included.”

“Indeed. The original Unei and Doga did everything within their power to stop Xande when it became clear he was consorting with darkness and harnessing it to his will. As such, they bestowed upon us, two humble clones, their will. ‘Tis our purpose to put an end to Xande’s madness,” Doga finished. 

Silence followed as each person mulled over the information given to them. It had been a stroke of luck that Carine had happened upon the information that lead her here to begin with, though it didn’t seem it was a coincidence. Not that it mattered because she could not allow any sort of powerful being with darkness on their side to sit and grow an army of clones to do its bidding. 

“I hereby declare our objective changed,” Rammbroes said. “The Crystal Tower must be sealed along with all secrets within it. We cannot allow them to see the light of day, as much as it pains me to say.”

Carine noticed the flash of defiance on Nero’s face, but it was gone long before anyone else looked upon him. He simply shrugged and wandered off as though he couldn’t care less. She knew otherwise and her palms itched to follow him, but there were plans to be made and precautions to take before they could think about entering the spire. 

She could pick apart his brain later.


	3. A Warning for a Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“To the fucking Void with you, Nero tol Scaeva. Might it swallow you whole!”_

The rest of the day was spent planning the best course of action to enter the tower. Unei and Doga were helpful enough with what they could remember lying within, but even then their knowledge was limited. To get a better feel of the dangers, Carine and a few other chosen scouts climbed the elaborate crystal staircase that seemed to reach the heavens themselves. 

It took the greater part of the afternoon and well into the evening before they returned, sore and spent from fighting the various enemies that waited for them. Each group had been stronger than the last and Carine knew if they continued to try and clear the entire tower on their journey to the top, they would have been felled sooner or later. It was best to go back to camp, eat a good dinner, and rest their weary muscles to fight another day. 

Cid and G’raha were the first to welcome them back. The Miqo’te took careful notes of the organic lifeforms that the party had fought while the magitek engineer listened intently on the technology they had encountered. Much to Carine’s surprise, Nero wasn’t among them asking for their in depth analysis of what lay in wait beyond the golden doors. She couldn’t say she was relieved, especially when it seemed that no one else was entirely sure where he had wandered off to after their meeting that morning. 

“Have you happened to see where Nero might have gone?” she asked Biggs, Cid’s Roegadyn assistant within his independent venture; The Ironworks.

“Nero? I thought I saw him lurking near your tents a few moments ago,” he replied. “Gods only know what that bastard is scheming. If it were up to me…”

“You would need to get in line,” she smiled at the man. “Let us pray he didn’t decide to try and take the tower himself. We weren’t successful in clearing it.”

Of course, once the words were out of her mouth she almost wished she could take them back. A world of trouble would be saved if Nero were foolish enough to brave the dangers she had faced, yet she couldn’t convince herself that it was for the best. So far, he had been forthcoming with his information, and as far as she knew he hadn’t wandered off to inform the Empire of what exactly they had uncovered. 

Then again, he seemed well aware of what this place was and what was being hidden within.

She decided her best course of action was to fill her belly and discuss plans for tomorrow’s attack, which should take them all the way to the top. According to Unei and Doga, that would be where Xande was waiting for them, most likely saving his strength to see who dare oppose his reign and power. Carine couldn’t say she was looking forward to that encounter, not if he was as powerful and entangled with darkness as they claimed him to be. It wasn’t that she didn’t think herself strong enough - her gift was the impressive ability to easily master any weapon of war - but she worried that her blessing from Hydaelyn would not manifest itself to lend them aid in this fight. 

Xande was a clone of his past self, not an eikon brought to power by the belief and aether united by a people that worshipped him, after all.

Her mind was filled with questions that yet remained unanswered as she made her way to her tent. Hopefully she was tired enough to find sleep quickly, but the moment she opened the flap, she knew sleep wasn’t coming any time soon. 

Not with Nero stretched out elegantly in her chair and his boots propped upon the small table within.

“Just the woman I was waiting for,” he smiled, clearly intent on bothering her. “Tell me,  _ dear, _ just how did your little adventure go? Need my expert fingers to rub away your weariness?”

Her eye twitched at his bold statement and her hands curled into fists at her side. “I have no need of you  _ or _ your expert fingers, thank you,” she replied. “What are you doing in my tent?”

“This is hardly the long awaited reunion I had been anticipating,” he pouted as he attempted to stand to his full height. Despite the fact her tent had been erected to keep in mind her tall Elezen figure, Nero was still a head taller than she and had to bend his neck so as not to brush the top with his head. “Shouldn’t wives that haven’t seen their husbands be far more... _ eager _ to be near them?”

“Careful Nero, I don’t think you want to see just how  _ eager _ I am to do what I want with you,” she glared, her words stopping him from taking another step forward. “I know you aren’t here to fuck me senseless because you are too smart to think I’d be willing. So, tell me what you’re doing in my tent, or I will make you leave.”

Whatever game he was playing at, the Garlean finally decided to drop the facade as he rolled his eyes and sat back into a more comfortable position in the chair he had been in before. “I have more information that might be of interest to you and your fellow Scions.”

Carine frowned. “What sort of information?”

“For starters, Emperor Solus is no more. He passed just a few months ago. Some believe old age, others believe it was poison, but the fact remains that there is a new emperor now on the throne.”

Her brow raised. She hadn’t been expecting that, not that she was sure what purpose telling her served. “So who is the emperor now?”

“His grandson Varis. The whole thing has been kept hushed within the capital itself while he has worked to establish his seat of power so ‘tis only a matter of time before your people caught word,” Nero replied. 

“Then why tell me?” she asked. “If we would find out eventually?”

“Because as it stands, your little quaint country is safe from the threat of invasion,” he told her with an evil twisted grin. “For now.”

Carine had half a mind to tell him to leave before she was angry, but if he had information on when or how the Empire might strike back at Eorzea, she would be expected to find out. “How long do you think we have?”

He shrugged and picked at his fingers indifferently. “Five years or so. Most likely less considering Varis’ peculiar interests in the Echo.”

The Warrior of Light paused at that, skin prickling at the implication and the fact that Nero was standing right here next to her. Surely he couldn’t mean to try and take her against her will and offer her up as prize to his new emperor, could he? No, he had already admitted that he couldn’t best her in combat without help. “That beggars the question,” she began. “Why tell me this?”

She regretted asking it the moment his lips curled into a cruel and malicious smile, eyes twinkling with deviance that had her taking a cautious step backwards. He seemed devilish in the low light offered by the meager lamp on the table, shadows covering half his face as he leaned forward in his chair. “Because now, little bird, you  _ owe _ me.”

“Pardon?” she snorted. It was laughable that he thought telling her that there was a new emperor on the throne that had a keen interest in her gift was warrant enough for her to be indebted to him. “How exactly do you figure?”

“‘Tis simple. You now know that there is a threat in your horizon, a rather palatable one at that. You know exactly  _ what _ they are interested in, which allows you to locate those that share your particular talents and gather them to safety, whatever that might be. You also know relatively  _ when _ they will make their move, giving you time to seek assistance in dealing with said threat,” Nero explained, his voice stern and very much serious. “Very few ever have even half that knowledge beforehand, and I risked my very life in ensuring it was delivered to you.”

“But why would you? Why put yourself in danger for the sake of a country you couldn’t care less about?” Carine asked. 

“My life is already in danger, regardless if I gave you this information or not,” he said. “I supported Gaius’ plan to subjugate Eorzea against the wishes and orders of Emperor Solus. On top of that, I allowed the Warrior of Light to destroy the weapon that was promised to the Empire...and seemingly abandoned my superior to their wrath. The  _ only _ reason I still stand today is because I was the only person capable of reviving that ancient technology.”

She put her hand to her head and sighed. “So, what? You’re a double agent now? Do just enough for the Empire in hopes they won’t kill you and help me enough so I won’t?”

He smiled, almost kindly to her. “You catch on quick, little bird, however I wouldn’t call myself a double agent. My work, as it stands, is to recover information the Allagans knew about creating clones. Should that prove successful, I can assure you I won’t be in your good graces.”

“And should you fail?”

“Then you owe me a favor in which I will call upon when the time is right,” he answered. 

Carine could see the honesty in his eyes and hated him for it. The man was far too clever and had given far too much thought into this little venture. He made valid points, enough to give her pause. It was plausible that the Scions could work to broker an alliance with Ishgard, giving them an ally that Garlemald wouldn’t likely expect. Carine was also sure that Minfilia knew several other people with the Echo. One word of caution to them, they could disappear without a trace and hinder any research the Empire might be conducting. Still, as helpful as this information was and useful it would be, she hardly felt like it was enough to incur a debt to a man like Nero tol Scaeva.

“No,” she denied him with a shake of her head. “I spared your life. That is more than enough to pay any debt you might think I owe you.”

His fist hit the table and before she knew it he was grasping her chin in his large hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “I paid that debt by saving yours, or did you not get my little message on that Reaper? Hmm? In fact, I think it would be safe to say that all of Eorzea owes me a debt for saving their savior.”

He released her as quickly as he had taken her and she had to rub away the pain of his grip from her jaw. “If that is how you wish to be,” Nero composed himself with a tug on his coat. “Then I have information regarding your  _ beloved _ sister. Violaine, was it?”

Carine froze, the blood in her veins turning straight to ice at the mention of her younger sister’s name. Neither she or her mother had heard word regarding the last member of their little family, and Minfilia’s contacts seemed to have never heard mention of her either. Violaine was doomed to be forgotten, most likely killed in the aftermath of the Eorzean rebellion.

“Nero, please,” she begged, closing the distance he had put between them not a moment earlier. She hated herself for this weakness, this  _ need _ to know the fate of her sister, but there wasn’t a day that went by she didn’t think the worst had happened. 

The Garlean’s face softened, but only for the briefest moment before tugging his hand from hers. “If I tell you what I know, you  _ will _ owe me a favor. A favor that I will choose when to cash in on, understood?”

Mindlessly she nodded, willing to give the man anything he desired for this bit of information. “You have my word.”

“Good,” Nero smiled, the cruelty from before no longer present. “She’s alive and doing quite well for herself.”

_ She’s alive! They didn’t kill her! Oh Blessed Nophica, Mama will be so happy! _ She thought to herself as tears formed at her eyes. 

“Did you see her? How does she look? Is she well? Does she still use her magic? Oh I hope they let her have a garden! She wouldn’t be herself without one,” Carine rambled question after question, bombarding the man with every little thing she could think to ask and had asked herself. 

“Slow down. By the Allagans, what makes you think I would know her every detail?” he growled. 

“You know who she was married to. You can at least tell me if she’s happy,” she pointed out. It wasn’t likely. The only Garlean Carine deemed worthy of any sort of affection was Cid, and he would be happier still not to be associated with his homeland as they were now.

Nero sighed and rubbed his temples. “That part is...complicated. I couldn’t tell you whether or not she is happy because I don’t know the woman’s particular taste when it comes to men. I can assure you that  _ you _ wouldn’t be, but she seems to be well last I saw of her. The very picture of royalty.”

_ Royalty? _ Carine thought to herself. “What do you mean by that?”

“You sister is a princess, at least as you would know it, now. Again, I don’t understand all the details as I was under the assumption any female that was not Garlean couldn’t claim any sort of title, but it’s complicated,” he answered. “Unfortunately with my current position, I am allowed nowhere near the royal family save Varis himself...and I fear that is only to face my execution should this venture prove futile.”

It wasn’t the best, but what could she really expect anything else from him? Nero preferred to keep her at arm’s length, giving her enough information to satisfy her most basic needs but not enough to quell her fears. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Knowing Violaine was safe and healthy and seemingly happy was enough for her, at least for now. 

“Very well,” she said after a few moments of silence to steel herself. “I gave you my word and I intend on keeping it. I... _ owe _ you a single favor. Now, what is it?”

A year ago, the smile he was giving her now would have sent her heart racing and muddled her mind until she was helpless in his arms. There would be no such moment between them now, but it was enough to make her ache for what had been, what possibly could have been had things been different. 

Then he wagged a finger and shook his head. “I don’t yet know, my little bird, but when I do, so will you.”

She groaned in frustration, pulling at her hair and gritting her teeth. “Most men would have just asked for sex.”

“You and I both know that I am not most men,” he reminded her, dipping his face dangerously close to hers. “But if you’re offering, I would not be opposed to taking you,  _ Carine. _ ”

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of her name, and before the Garlean could move, her foot had slammed down on his own. Oh, he had thought to use that silver tongue to make her melt, but he hadn’t counted on her being over his little game. She knew his tactic, knew that he knew how to make her quake for him, and she had prepared. 

“You bloody wench!” he hissed, glowering at her as he limped towards the opening of the tent. 

“To the fucking Void with you, Nero tol Scaeva. Might it swallow you whole!” She shouted back, giving him one last shove out of her quarters. 

And such was the ending to what had seemed to be the longest day of her life.

 

***

 

Reaching the peak of the tower was far easier than the Warrior of Light had anticipated. She had expected far more resistance as her party climbed the crystal stairway that spiraled up the seemingly endless spire. The decadence that the clones had mentioned proved true; everything from the skillfully crafted blue walls that pulsed with energy that powered the structure to the golden filigree that trimmed each landing. Enormous chandeliers refracted light into phantasmal patterns on the vibrant red carpet that guided their path, making this place seem like something straight out of a fairytale or fantastic dream. 

Cid, G’raha, and the others hung back while Carine and her associates cleared a path for them to follow until finally a set of large golden doors, not unlike the first, stood in their path. The only difference she could discern was that these seemed to open of their own accord, not that she was foolish enough to believe that. 

_ Especially _ not when she laid eyes upon the monstrosity of a man sitting upon a throne so elegantly designed that she felt the Twelve might find themselves unworthy to sit upon it. 

Carine had never seen anything quite like him. For one, even just sitting there on his throne she was sure she would barely come to his knee. She wasn’t tall for an Elezen, but she was tall enough to recognize that this man was  _ massive. _ At his full height, he was sure to be only a head or so shorter than Ultima, making her believe that the control Gaius had used within the machine had been of Nero’s design because there was no way Xande was fitting inside it. 

Bronzed skin etched with silvery-gold markings stretched over a thick chest and powerful muscles, making the thought of facing his raw strength frightening enough. Of course, one look at his golden eyes and permanent frown only served to finish off the severe appearance of an otherwise formidable opponent. 

“You fight valiantly, for mortals,” a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from across the landing as Xande shifted his gaze to look down upon her and those that dared fight beside her. “But to no avail. Absolute darkness draws nigh and will soon be unleashed.”

Had she had to face this hulk of a man a year ago, Carine would have most likely quaked at his dire words, but she was the Warrior of Light, Slayer of Eikons. What was there to fear from some shirtless giant sporting a long, orange mullet, Allagan staff or not in his grip?

“Save your speeches,” she smirked, drawing her bow from her back. She closed her eyes and felt for the blessing she knew intertwined with her very soul. “Their bad for your health.”

Cool and soothing, Carine felt it caress her conscious. She reached forward, summoning but a sliver of that power and willing it to stay within her grasp until she felt it snap within. Her eyes shot open, her hands already poised on her bow that was now gilded in shining, white light. Power pricked at her fingertips as she unleashed a magic arrow from the string in a blinding flash. Xande roared and used his trunk of an arm to knock the arrow of light from midair, surprising the Elezen. She recovered just in time to avoid a concentrated blast where she had just been standing, only she hadn’t accounted for the force of blow. 

As her body soared through the air, she used the training she had learned from Yda to gracefully twist herself so that her feet landed first and allowing her legs and lower body to absorb most of the impact. She was convinced that there was a way to add in an attack with her bow, but not confident enough to execute as she steadied herself on her hands. Drawing back to an upright position, she noted that the floor pulsed for the briefest moment, her only warning before it erupted in an explosion that sent some of her fellows in the air.

Carine used the smoke that followed the attack as cover. Though it effectively hid her from the giant, it also hid him from her, but not from her sensitive Elezen ears. Before he could blast the smoke away, she unleashed three arrows of light into his chest, weakening him and nearly making him drop his heavy staff. This gave her companions a chance to attack with everything they had until he recovered, but not without grave wounds. 

He was a healthy mix of ranged and melee fighting, using his spells to attack the casters and Carine just out of reach while using his brute strength to tumble the warriors and rogues at his feet. His true power, however, was felt the moment he disappeared from right before them, shimmering into form on his throne and summoning a lightning storm the likes of which Carine prayed she would never see again. 

Wind whipped around them, threatening to send them over the edge of the tower and to their deaths. Forks of lightning struck the ground at random with no sure way to predict their pattern and heavy thunder deafened their ears and shook their chests. Xande seemed immune to this until she found that his staff acted as a conductor, absorbing the energy from the lightning within and allowing the Allagan to redirect it between his own spells. The effort, valiant as it was to rid him of the tiny pests invading his tower, distracted him from the more powerful and devastating blows Carine was able to shoot his way until he was stumbling over himself.

With one last arrow and all the might she could muster, the Warrior of Light bellowed in her defiance, unleashing her power upon the fallen emperor until he moved no more and his blood stained the dais. The adventurers that had fought bravely alongside her now showered her with praise as the black clouds that had darkened the sky began to part, revealing the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Clouds dipped in pinks and orange hues painted the sky and reflected off the crystal surface they now stood upon leaving no hint that an epic battle had just raged there only moments before. 

“You did it!” exclaimed G’raha as he rushed to her side from across the platform, his arms raised to the air in jubilation. 

“Did you expect any less?” she grinned, taking a bow. “Truth be told, I was expecting...more.”

“Man’s indefatigable spirit endures,” Doga graced her with a rare smile. “Or, in your case, woman’s. We can now begin preparation to undo his dark legacy thanks to your work.”

That sounded good enough for her as she shed some of the lighter armor she wore in favor of rubbing the stiffness from her shoulders. She made her way to a nice quiet corner, far from the elaborate throne the scholars were now flocking to in order to draw it just as it was. 

With the threat now gone, it was easy to see the elegant beauty and design of the “throne room” as it were. The dais Carine and the others had faced Xande upon sat in the middle of a crystal clear pool that she hadn’t noticed before. Energy produced by the tower created a current that was gentle and cool, inviting the Elezen to shed her boots and dip her weary feet in. 

The others either ignored her or gave her the space she required, most likely thanks to Cid who always seemed to be looking out for her frame of mind after hard battles. Without her having to tell him, he somehow knew just how much energy it took from her to tap into the blessing that was as much a part of her as her very soul. It was easier now to recognize it within herself, though difficult to hold on to once she grasped it. Truth be told, this was the first time she had been able to use it of her own will rather than rely on help from Hydaelyn. 

And it had absolutely taxed her now that the battle was over.

As the sunlight began to fade, temporary camp was made upon the dais. The scholars and archaeologists weren’t quite finished with their detailed recordings and some weren’t quite ready to part with this ancient relic of a place. Carine was more than done with it, though she promised she wouldn’t leave until they had sealed the tower off. 

She lay on her back, eyes cast towards the sky and feet still gently kicking in the cool water, listening to Unei and Doga talk more about G’raha’s strange eye. It was a great comfort to him to know he couldn’t possibly be a clone, as they explained that clones could not reproduce, but of little comfort to Carine as she wondered if Nero had found the secret to it. Neither of them seemed interested in sharing that knowledge, and the Twelve knew he tried, so he had taken to scanning each and every crack and crevice and surface with that stupid instrument that she remembered him having back when she had been living with the man. 

Cid seemed wary of him pacing around, but Carine had eased his fears. What could the Garlean get into that they had not already uncovered? There had been no tomes laying around, no libraries to dig into, no hidden caches that had been found. So far, things were looking up for her. 

_ Don’t forget you owe him a favor, _ she begrudgingly reminded herself as she sat up with the arrival of the clones to her little pocket of privacy.

“Eager to be finished with this?” she asked with an understanding smile. 

“Aye. We have already informed Rammbroes and G’raha on how to effectively seal off the Crystal Tower. We can either isolate it from the outside world or cripple its ability to produce energy,” Unei told her. 

“The choice is ultimately yours to make, however Unei and I must needs attend to a task,” Doga finished. 

Carine was just about to ask what that task might be when a shiver crawled up her spine. Energy pulsed over the throne that now sat empty, crackling in the air with darkness palatable enough she could feel it in her bones. The blessing of light within her even seemed to recognize this darkness, retreating from the pulse that now beat like a heart. She was barely aware of Cid and Nero arguing about something as her eyes locked on the shimmering air over the throne. 

Something  _ bad _ was coming. 

“What’s that distortion over there?” G’raha asked, following her fixed gaze. Unei and Doga looked up as well and then to each other with a knowing nod.

“That’s the power Xande sought to obtain. It comes from the void - the World of Darkness as our people knew it,” Doga explained without a hint of fear or trepidation.

“The true power came from the voidsent of that world and their armies. In exchange for their allegiance, Xande entered into an unholy covenant using his blood to create a gate in which they could enter freely into this world,” Unei went on. “I need not remind you that they feed on aether and there is no other plane in existence richer in it than ours.”

“And how exactly do we close this gateway?” G’raha Tia asked, ears falling to the sides and tail twitching about nervously. 

“With his blood was it made, by our blood it shall be undone.”

The two Hyurs exchanged a nod and then turned and walked in unison to the distortion that seemed to be growing bigger with every pulse. Their arms outstretched and magic flowed forth from their palms, much like it did when they opened the golden gate that had barred their path just two days prior. Carine could feel the power fading from the distortion, growing smaller for a brief moment until a sudden surge on the other side nearly threatened to steal her breath. 

At that precise moment, Nero burst into a fit of maniacal laughter, his blond head tossed back and eyes wide with glee as he looked down at the device in his hands. She turned to the Garlean, who had chosen today to wear his old maroon armor set (missing the golden cloth that had adorned it before, she noted), suspicion in her eyes. 

“Nero…” she growled a warning, her hand automatically reaching for her weapon. 

“Be still my beating heart! I was sure this venture would lead to disappointment, but alas! My readings were not mistaken! There is, indeed, a power greater than that of Ultima!”

Carine turned to Cid, her eyes wide as her friend glared at their companion. “What are you going on about?” he asked, large hands clenched into fists at his sides. She dared not take a moment longer to wait, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the distracted Garlean who seemed to be wiping tears of happiness from his eyes. 

She didn’t like that one bit.

The only thing that made her like it less was the distorted voice that now came from the cloud of darkness. During Nero’s untimely interruption, Unei and Doga had turned their attention to him, not that they could be blamed. He  _ had _ sounded like a complete lunatic and even looked the part. 

_ “The covenant is...everlasting…” _ it said, an echo within itself. Just then, copies of Unei and Doga began appearing randomly around them. They weren’t exact replicas of the Hyurs Carine knew, their skin an ash grey and hair a ghostly white. Their eyes, while still a notable red, were actually glowing, and their clothes seemed made of the darkness they emerged from. 

It was then that the tell-tale sign of the Echo throbbed its way into Carine’s mind, piercing her from within and bringing her to her knees with the force in which it sent her back in time. Once the sepia world came into focus, the Warrior of Light bore witness to the moment the pact was created. 

And  _ why. _

She listened as Xande, sitting upon his massive throne, spoke to the clones that knelt before him with their lifeless eyes and expressionless faces. He told them of how he remembered death, the nothingness of the void, how it haunted him still. He ruled the world, yet the inevitable end had taken all the enjoyment of life as he had known it. Pain and rage consumed him, that after living there seemed to be nothing.

_ “What worth is wealth and power when all must inevitably fade to nothingness? If man has nothing, he need not know the pain of loss…” _

And thus he called forth the power to open the gates to the World of Darkness and allow the voidsent to bring chaos to the world he no longer cared for. He had reached the pinnacle of power and was yet found wanting. And Gaius had said she had the power to steer the course of civilization. 

Carine, decidedly, wanted absolutely no part in that if  _ this _ was what it lead to.

 

“Carine! Pull yourself together!” G’raha shook her awake, pulling her back into the present and left her with a throbbing headache. The world shifted around her, making the Elezen dizzy as she tried to stand to her feet and collect her bearings. Thankfully the Miqo’te was quick on the draw, loosing an arrow into one of the clones that began casting a spell in her direction. 

“Thanks…” she muttered, shaking her head and hoping the uneasy feeling would pass. All around them, those capable of fighting attacked the relentless clones. Where one fell, two more appeared, making the battle seem futile. Scholars and archaeologists ran for the exit, ducking into what she hoped was safety and leaving the fighters to whatever fate awaited them.

“By the Twelve!” G’raha heaved breathlessly beside her, reaching for one of her arrows in her quiver to replenish his own. “There’s no end of them!”

Suddenly the Miqo’te dropped down, his palm pressed to his sanguine eye and cursed. Carine stood fast beside him, loosing her arrows into the clones that dared approach while carefully keeping an eye on the others in her party. She cried out as three of the clones combined an attack and aimed it at Cid, who was busy fighting off two others. There was little she could do but expend what mana she hadn’t used to send a fireball in their direction. It wasn’t enough to kill them outright, but it blew them back and knocked their staffs from their hands, earning the Garlean a moment’s reprieve to get to his feet.

“Dammit Nero! Were they part of your plan too?” he shouted in accusation. The Warrior of Light turned just in time to watch her former husband in a brilliant display of his military skills take on five of the clones. She even dared admire him as he wielded his gunlance with grace and ease, slicing through one and shooting yet another. 

“Save your japes, Garlond,” he spat, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “I did not put up with your arrogant face to waste my time with worthless clones!”

Carine had no time to warn him of the two clones that appeared behind him, so she fired off her last two arrows into their chests, effectively saving him from a combo attack. Nero turned, surprised to find the bodies lying dead behind him, and then looked back at Carine with a smile. 

“Ever the faithful wife you are!” he exclaimed, pointing the gun in her direction. 

Her heart stopped within her chest as she stared him down, eyes disbelieving what they beheld. She was out of arrows, out of mana, and too shocked to think of summoning her blessing in time to defend her before he pulled the trigger. Instinct took over as her eyes slammed shut, the echo of the shot fired singing in her ears as she waited for the nothingness Xande feared to consume her. 

But it didn’t. 

Slowly she peeked through her lashes, mentally accounting for every limb and finger before looking at Nero in wonder. How in Seven Hells had he  _ missed? _

The arrogant ass pulled back his gun, blowing the smoke from its barrel and winked in her direction. “Clever woman, but I am not so quick to give up my favor over you saving my life yet again.”

Carine’s mouth hung open before she remembered herself and clamped it shut. Anger coursed through her veins as she looked behind her to see a copy of Unei lying dead behind her, the bullet wound centered in her forehead seeping a thick, black liquid onto the platform.

She would murder that pompous, narcissistic asshole for shooting in her fucking direction if it was the last thing she did before this night was through!

“Doga!” Unei cried out, bringing Carine’s attention to the cloud of darkness that had now burst forth into a blackened rift. Dark energies poured from it, its tendrils grasping hold of Doga and pulling him within its depths. Unei, still too close to the rift, was soon caught in its grasp as well. It lifted her high, pulling her slowly into its gaping maw while she fought and struggled. 

As much as Carine wanted to help, she felt within her soul that there was nothing she could do to stop the void from taking the woman. G’raha was still fallen on the ground and in need of her immediate protection, and she was more than capable of providing that. 

“Dammit!” Nero shouted, running as quickly as his long legs would take him and felling every clone that dared stand in his way as he went towards the rift. He lept into the air, hand reaching out to the struggling Unei in a moment that seemed uncharacteristically heroic of the man Carine had known. The Elezen nearly yelled for him to back away, until his next words graced her ears. “That power is  _ mine. _ ”

Before anyone could stop it, a black tendril reached out and grasped the greedy Garlean by the wrist, yanking him with such force that it pulled both Nero and Unei into the darkness and sealing the rift with a black wink.


	4. Into the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh, I want to save him. And then I want to kill him. I want it to be slow so I can explain to him just how fucking stupid he is, magitek genius or not. I’ll shove the bloody manual on ‘How Not to be a Fucking Idiot’ down his throat if I have to.”_

“Nero!” Carine stared at the spot where the black cloud had been hanging just a few moments before. “You stupid sonofa-”

“Easy now, lass,” Cid pulled her in, distracting the woman from the string of curses now leaving her lips. “Calling him every name under the sun isn’t likely to bring him back.”

No, but it made her feel better. She knew better than to think that he was there for any reason other than what he claimed. There was  _ always _ something else in it for him. Sure, finding the secret to creating clones would have been more than enough to keep his position within the Empire, but controlling the darkness would have given him an edge. She wouldn’t have put it past the pompous ass to challenge the new emperor for his seat if he figured out a way to use it.

Carine was nearly certain that darkness was impossible to control anyway.

“If he lives through this, I’ll kill him for real this time,” she muttered, pulling herself from Cid’s arms and back towards G’raha who seemed to finally be recovering himself. “What happened? Are you alright?”

The Miqo’te had a troubled expression and shook his head back and forth as he accepted her help to his feet. “I...don’t know,” he replied. “I feel like there is something important I should be remembering. Alas, every time I feel like it is within my grasp, ‘tis just out of my reach.”

“Don’t worry over it too much. I’d gather we have time before we figure out a way to save Unei and Doga,” Cid said. 

“And Nero.”

They both looked to Carine, G’raha confused and Cid amused. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to kill the man? Which is it, lass?”

“Oh, I want to save him. And then I want to kill him,” she explained as she gathered her things and double checked to make sure G’raha hadn’t been injured while she had been distracted. “I want it to be slow so I can explain to him just how fucking  _ stupid _ he is, magitek genius or not. I’ll shove the bloody manual on ‘How Not to be a Fucking Idiot’ down his throat if I have to.”

Her companions were struck speechless as she ranted and raved, half out of her mind with worry over what might have befallen him and the clones when they were pulled through the portal. As far as she and anyone else in Eorzea knew, no one traveled to the Void. If they did, no one ever returned. Those odds were not in their favor and grew slimmer with each passing minute. 

“Remind me not to anger her,” G’raha whispered to Cid as they followed behind the Warrior of Light. 

“Only if you remind me first,” he shot back with a hesitant grin. 

Rammbroes was the first to answer the door when Carine began banging on it, her rage still boiling beneath her skin. She must have been an intimidating sight, for the Roegadyn took one look at her and retreated several steps backwards. The Warrior of Light paid him no mind, stomping her way towards the stairwell, leaving the large man to look to Cid. 

“What happened to all the clones?” Rammbroes asked, falling into step beside the engineer. “And where are Unei and Doga?”

It took the majority of the descent towards their camp for Cid to explain what he believed to have happened. Too much had converged at once in such succession that the Garlean found it difficult to wrap his mind around it. As he saw it, the clones were being controlled by a voidsent, and a powerful one at that. When the connection to the World of Darkness was broken, the clones no longer could come through the gate and thus they no longer had to fight. The issue now was, how could they open that gate again from this side and free their companions?

While Carine was set on killing Nero, an act he didn’t truly believe she could perform, Cid was finding begrudging reasons to yet keep the man alive. Irritating and self-serving as he was, Nero  _ had _ left behind a rather telling tome from his personal archives in Garlemald that might prove useful in creating a gate. If Nero’s true intentions were to harness the power of darkness (a foolish thought if there ever was one and the act of a desperate man), then he would have researched every viable option to make that happen. Given that he knew about Unei and Doga’s unique creation and that tie to the covenant made by Emperor Xande, Cid believed he had a way to open the gate without the aid of Xande himself.

As his luck would have it, Nero was thorough enough to have marked and highlighted the page as well as made extensive notes in the margins on how to create a machine capable of opening a rift. With Biggs and Wedge at his side, the Garlean began sketching out a design. Most everything he needed to complete such a project could fit upon his  _ Enterprise _ in a single trip which meant it would be no time before it was up and running to the best of his ability. 

He only hoped he would be quick enough.

 

***

 

It had taken Cid nearly five days to complete the device that was capable of opening rifts. As much as Carine had tried to pressure him to going faster, he had stayed steadfast in making sure it was done right. 

“They could be dead by now,” she pointed out as she watched him set the machine up near the throne where Xande once ruled.

“Have some faith, lass,” he would reply. “You know as well as I that Nero is resourceful. If anyone can survive in a place like that, it would be him.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m more worried he used Unei and Doga as sacrifice to  _ rule _ the bloody world, or at least have some form of power.”

Cid snorted, nearly dropping his wrench at the implication. There was little doubt in his mind that Carine knew the man well. Too well considering the half a year she had spent living with him. “I said give him some credit, but you give him entirely too much,” he replied, tightening the last screw. “It did take him most of his life to rise from a common born to becoming a Tol.”

Carine stilled at that, head dropping a bit. Cid didn’t notice the change, far too busy double and triple checking to make sure everything was in proper working order. She knew all too well Nero’s humble beginning. She knew him to be common born, even amongst the Garleans, but he had been abandoned by his family and denied any form of love other than what Gaius had provided. She also knew that Nero had considered Cid his only friend, a brother if she had to guess from the memories she witnessed thanks to the Echo. The only other family he had chosen that he felt betrayed him thanks to his privileged upbringing.

She knew that he would stop at nothing to prove him worthy of love and adoration as he imagined it to be, unwilling to learn of what it  _ should _ be. 

She briefly wondered if mayhap it was too late to change his perception.

“Carine?” G’raha’s hesitant voice beside her snapped her back to the present, her body jumping in response. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked, pushing her thoughts of Nero aside. 

“No, well…” he seemed to struggle to find the words as his tail flicked back and forth in his deliberation. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he finally decided with a nod. “I know there is something I am supposed to remember, but I don’t know what that is. I can feel that it has something to do with the tower, but mayhap Doga and Unei can help guide me in the direction I am intended to go.”

“Then I shall endeavor to return them to you as quickly as possible,” she smiled. 

He shook his head. “You misunderstand. I’d like to come with you, if you’ll have me. Mayhap the Void can grant me answers, mayhap not, but the truth is you shouldn’t go in there without some help.”

Carine wanted to tell him that she very well could go on a rescue mission to a dangerous place on her own, but one look at his earnest face made it impossible to turn him away. “Why not? I’ll likely be trying to keep three people safe from all the unknown. What’s one more?”

“At least I can defend myself,” he shop back with a devious grin, motioning to the bow on his back. “Last I checked, my arrows were far more consistent than yours.”

She arched a silver brow at that, looking down on the Miqo’te with a dubious smile. She reached out and scratched behind his ears, eliciting an involuntary purr. “You keep telling yourself that, kitty.”

“Oh I know you did NOT just pet me!” he teased, his tail now swishing in content at the contact despite his threatening voice.

“If the two of you are quite done,” Cid coughed. “I think we’re ready.”

Immediately all present quietened, turning their undivided attention to the Garlean at once to listen. 

“This device, with the aid of the power present within the tower, should open and hold a rift. I need all engineers on this side at the ready at all times,” Cid instructed. “Carine, you will go through and try to find our friends. My best guess is the portal that opened here deposited them where this cloud of darkness originated. Should this open that same door, then you will be able to find them quickly.”

“So there’s a chance this portal could open up somewhere else?” Carine was horrified at the thought. She wasn’t keen on going to another world to begin with, seeing as her work here in this one seemed never ending. 

Rammbroes shook his head. “Nay. In the studies we have found from the ancient Allagans on the subject, it appears that this world is a mirror of our own. The rift should open to the same location however, there is no guarantee that it will look or behave the same as ours. It would be best to exercise caution once on the other side, not that I need remind you.”

_ The same, but not, _ she told herself. She then turned to G’raha, who was adding more arrows to his quiver in preparation.  _ I hope you’re ready for what lies beyond. _

Almost as if hearing her thought, the cheerful Miqo’te lifted his head and smiled eagerly. “I’m ready when you are.”

There was no more second guessing after that. Cid started barking orders at Biggs and Wedge, who ordered some of the scholars that offered their help with managing the machine. Together, they relayed the information to those waiting at the base of the spire so that the tower could begin powering up. Within just a few minutes, the crystals that stood around the dias at the top began to glow and hum until light was shooting from within on a central point between them. A flash of white light bright enough to make Carine shield her eyes burst forth from that focal point. When the light faded, a jagged black hole remained. 

 

Getting through the rift was easy, if not a little disorienting. In their own world, the sun had been shining upon them on a crystal clear day, but here there seemed to be no end to the rolling black clouds that darkened an eternal night sky. If it weren’t for the strange, purple horizon that seemed to light the place, Carine was sure that they would have never found their way. If anything, they would have wandered right off the walkways they stood upon and tumbled endlessly into the clouds below. 

G’raha whistled as he looked over the ledge, his ears pinned back against his head. “That’s a long way down. I wonder if it ever ends?”

“I’d rather not find the answer to that question,” Carine shivered. She didn’t like being in this place. In fact, she felt rather sick. The part of her she recognized as the blessing from the goddess seemed to retreat further and further within her, almost fearfully. Strange that something she considered so powerful quake in a place where she was sure it would dominate. 

Did Light even have reason to fear Darkness?

It was impossible to tell exactly where Unei and Doga had been taken as there was no sign of any of them where they had stepped into the rift. Carefully, Carine and G’raha walked along the path, their eyes and ears peeled for any threats they might stumble across along the way. 

“You don’t think that thing that took them left this area, do you?” the Miqo’te asked, flicking his sensitive ears back and forth. “I don’t hear anything and can’t see anything past that damned cloud.”

Carine followed his gaze towards a raised platform not too far from where they stood. It seemed the path they were one was leading them there, but the simplicity of it made her wary. “How much gil do you want to bet they are somewhere in the middle of that?” she asked in an attempt to lift the mood. 

“I don’t have enough gil to my name to make a bet against you,” he shook his head. “Nay, let us hurry and find them and get out of this place. It makes my tail twitch.”

Carine was sure if she had a tail, it would be twitching too as they neared the ominous platform surrounded by the rolling black clouds. Their suspicions were proven true the moment they stepped onto the dais and were engulfed in the thick fog, momentarily blinding them before materializing into a strange creature unlike anything the Warrior of Light had ever seen.

From the gloom emerged a humanoid face with sickly green skin and pupiless yellow orbs for its wide-set eyes. It appeared feminine, with soft, rounded cheeks and darker green markings upon her skin. Her hair appeared more like green tendrils or tentacles, thick and smooth, that disappeared into the mass of clouds behind her. Long arms with claw-like fingers reached out to them, threatening to swipe the two off the platform in one, single motion.

Carine dodge the attack easily enough, avoiding the long sweep of her arm, but found herself rolling into a strange yellow creature that was all teeth and anger. How she avoided those snapping jaws, she would never know. In an attempt to fight the thing off, she grabbed one of her daggers in her boot and sliced at it. The creature shifted its form, dissipating long enough for her steel to glide harmlessly through thin air before rematerializing and snapping at her again. 

“What in Seven Hells?” she gasped, wincing as it grabbed onto her arm. 

“Foolish mortals! Coming to mine own realm and thinking to defeat me!” The shrill voice of the voidsent piercing the air. “I shall feast upon your boundless aether and then feast upon the aether of your home!”

Carine ignored the threat; all bad things seemed to make them at this point and every time she had proved them wrong. Instead, she focused her energy on trying to harness the blessing that was being far more stubborn at coming to her than normal. Behind her, G’raha fought with his useless arrows and used his smaller form to nimbly avoid the larger attacks. 

_ Oh for the love of the Matron! There’s nothing to bloody fear here! _ Carine scolded herself as she struggled to focus on her power. Every time it seemed she was able to grasp it, it would slip from her just as quickly.  _ If you won’t let me use you, we aren’t getting out of here alive. _

It was a chilling thought, and one Carine did not entertain lightly. Back home she could easily rely upon her other weapons of choice as her Echo not only allowed her to see the memories of those around her, but also gave her the impressive ability to master any weapon in her hands. Here, the Cloud of Darkness seemed immune to mundane weapons. She could always try and summon forth the magic that flowed within her, but she knew that one attack from her weak mana pool wouldn’t do near enough damage to this being to save them. 

Almost as if sensing her desperation, the blessing allowed her to cling on just a moment more, lighting her daggers and allowing them to pierce through the yellow, smoky creatures that bit and snapped and tore at her flesh. Carine knew the light was just what was needed as they recoiled immediately from her and actively avoided her deadly blows. Each one squealed before dissipating for good, and that brought about the attention from the thing that had been controlling them. 

Her large, pupiless eyes narrowed and her purple lips frowned. “You will  _ pay, _ mortal, for killing my pets.”

Again, it was an empty threat when compared to the might of the Warrior of Light. Carine smirked and dropped her daggers in favor of the bow at her back. Immediately it began to glow and pulse with the power bestowed upon her by Hydaelyn, striking fear into the cold, callous eyes of the voidsent floating above them. “Not before  _ you _ pay for stealing my friends.”

The battle was short lived once Carine had started letting loose her arrows. The darkness around them actively retreated from their blinding flash, making the fight almost effortless. It was a great wonder the blessing seemed to fear this place, considering the power it held over it as the cloud finally was vanquished. 

“Took your time with that, did you?” G’raha asked, not entirely friendly. 

“Says the one with not a scratch upon him,” she shot back, furrowing her brow as she looked him over. Her arms were actively bleeding, the thick red drops staining yet another favored design by her dear mother. How he managed to go completely unscathed while she was bleeding everywhere…

She went lightheaded for a moment and chose to sit and try and heal herself before the taint of this place tried to worm its way in. Even now she could feel the darkness seeking a way to feed upon her own aether. 

“Unei? Doga?” G’raha called out, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Where are you?”

Carine thought about telling him to shut up before they attracted another voidsent like that one, but someone beat her to the punch.

“Must you be so infernally loud?” a familiar voice called from the other side of the platform behind them. “Are you so keen to attract more of them?”

“Nero?” Carine was unable to contain the sliver of hope that slipped through her lips as she turned in his direction. 

“Ah, it seems my wife has come to save me after all,” he smirked. “I suppose I can’t blame you for missing my company.”

Her eyes widened as they beheld the Garlean, and rather than hasten to his side, Carine found herself taking a careful step back. “By the Twelve! What  _ happened? _ ”

He looked ill. His skin had become unnaturally pale, not that he had much in the way of color to begin with, and thick, black streaks snaked up his neck and onto his cheeks. Purple crystals formed in his golden hair and around his third eye just as they did to his armor. In his arms was a lifeless Unei, carried much the same way he had carried Carine when she had fainted after her battle against Ifrit what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“‘Tis nothing to worry over,” Nero shrugged, gently laying Unei on the floor. “She has simply passed out.”

Carine shook her head, heart clutching in her chest as she looked upon the grave wound splitting his side. The purple crystals seemed to gather in force there, pulsing with what she assumed was every heartbeat from the man. Ignoring her own wounds, the Elezen went to him and dropped to her knees, closely examining the injury and wondering how in Seven Hells she was going to fix him with what little mana she had left. 

Nero looked down at her, watching with an amused smirk. “Why,  _ Carine, _ I knew you missed me, but shouldn’t your appreciation for my return be expressed in private?”

“Shut up,” she scolded, unable to be mad at him while he seemed gravely wounded right here in front of her. “Let me try…”

Doga put his hand on her shoulder and sadly shook his head. “Alas, his wounds are too deep. Even if you were to seal this one, the darkness would still feed on his aether from within. Would that we could have protected him.”

Carine looked up, jaw clenched as she realized that both Unei and Doga themselves were as unharmed as G’raha. “And how is it that you remain whole?”

“The covenant Xande made with the Cloud of Darkness was made with his blood. That gave us some measure of protection here,” he explained. “That being said, that protection does not extend to all voidsent within this world. We would be of a similar state, if not dead, had Nero not so valiantly protected us.”

Well, that was honestly a surprise. It was a fact she was hardly willing to believe if it weren’t so blatantly staring her in the face. Since when did Nero keep putting himself at risk for the safety of others? First it was risking his life to deliver her a warning that could potentially save all of Eorzea from future attacks and now saving two complete strangers from a world designed to feed upon their very being? If she wanted to, she could even think back to the night that he had sent the Reaper to save her from certain death as a strange act of nobility from the man. 

“Mistake not my actions for kindness,” Nero interrupted her train of thought that almost made her admire him. “I still have use for you yet in Eorzea. I simply could not allow harm to befall you here.”

Ah, there he was. It was infuriating how he managed to find a way to make her respect him and then immediately piss her off for being the man he is and most likely would always be. And to think she was going to waste the last of her mana on attempting to heal him.

Unei began to stir, bringing G’raha and Doga immediately to her side. As they worried over her, Carine found herself standing dangerously close to Nero. She could feel his icy eyes looking down at her, and try as she might to ignore him, she couldn’t.

“Is there something on my face?” she glared up at him. 

His expression softened, and this time he didn’t try to mask it as he pushed her hair from her eyes. She stiffened under his touch, holding her breath and cursing herself for the traitor butterflies within her for waking when all she wanted to do was hate him. His eyes looked her over until she felt his thumb trace over the small silver scar on her brow.

“You kept it,” he said, dropping his hands to his side. 

Carine blinked in surprise, unconsciously reaching up to trace the scar with her own fingers. The very one he had given her the night they had faced each other as warriors on opposing sides. Of course she had kept it, she preferred to keep all her scars as proof of every battle that was hard won. It would have been a simple task in healing it when she had been under Y’shtola’s care, but she remembered requesting the Miqo’te not touch it. 

“Don’t read too much into it, Nero,” she finally told him. “It means nothing.”

That was a lie, and she knew he knew it. It was her physical reminder of what he was capable of and kept her from dwelling on all the times that he had done something that made her feel...whatever it was she had felt. It was the reminder that he had threatened to take her and study her, pick her apart like one of his machines to understand how she worked. It was the reminder that he was capable of hurting her.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” the Garlean said after a few moments of them silently watching their companions worry over Unei. 

“You were following orders.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps, or perhaps not. I was angry because you lied.”

“So is this the part you tell me you did not mean what you said and if you could go back in time you would do differently?” she scoffed. “The possibility of death doesn’t suit you, Nero tol Scaeva.”

“I did not say that. I merely suggested that I now realize I was foolish,” he frowned. “I should not have said that I would experiment on you, it was said in anger. Even if I could go back in time, that anger would not have changed and I would have still meant it.”

“At least you’re honest.”

They sat there in silence, neither of them sure of what to say to the other. Carine wanted to hurry and leave this place, worrying at how much time they had left before the manmade rift Cid had created would close. She didn’t, however, wish to rush Unei before she was ready to make a run for it, nor did she want to rush this moment with Nero. She was acutely aware of the Garlean shuffling beside her, pulling something from his neck. His elbow brushed against hers, asking for her attention even if she was reluctant to give it.

Rather than meet his gaze, she looked down at his extended hand. In his grasp was a thick, silver necklace chain with a single ring hanging from it. Her heart stopped in her chest as she recognized the silver and black band, the very one she had left in his living quarters the day she freed the Scions. 

“What’s this?” she asked.

Nero rolled his eyes and lifted a golden brow. “You know exactly what it is.”

“Well, yes,” she replied, taking the chain into her hands and looking it over. “But why? Why do you still have this?”

Before Nero could answer, the air began to shift and churn around them. Dark clouds began to form again, slowly this time. 

“Foolish mortals! You thought you could destroy me? In  _ my _ realm? I am everlasting. I am eternal! And now you shall feel my truth wrath!”

Energy pulsed through the fog, sending a single strike towards them. G’raha stood fast, blocking the attack from the rest of the party by taking its full force. There was nothing anyone could do to stop him, but when the smoke cleared, the Miqo’te was shockingly still standing. Carine pulled her bow from her back, running towards him and double checking to make sure he hadn’t been hurt. There was no doubt in her mind this time that he had been targeted and struck, yet there wasn’t a singed hair on his head or burn on his skin. 

“What is this trickery?” the discordant voice cried, just as surprised as the rest of them. “Your blood...you too gain protection from Xande’s blood!”

“Didn’t you just defeat her?” Nero asked, his hand clutching at his side and face twisted in pain. 

“I thought I did,” Carine replied. “Apparently they don’t play by the ‘dead is dead’ rules we’re used to.”

“Are you truly so powerless here?” G’raha asked, his odd eyes looking up and down his arms in amazement. 

“So long as you continue to fight the Cloud of Darkness in this realm, I fear so,” Unei spoke up, looking hopefully towards Doga. “Perhaps it is now our chance to fulfill our purpose.”

Doga nodded and turned to G’raha. “You must needs flee, my friend.”

“You and Unei wish to stay? ‘Tis madness! No one but you can seal the tower!” the Miqo’te argued. 

“Nay, ‘tis no longer true.  _ You _ have royal blood coursing through you. How it came to be, we know not, but it grants you authority over the Crystal Tower,” Doga smiled. “To think I believed that all of Allag was lost to time, yet a sliver survived within a single line.”

“We shall bestow upon you our blood,” Unei chimed in, taking the Miqo’te’s hands in her own. Doga did the same while Carine and Nero watched the growing clouds in worry. 

“If you would hurry it up, that would be ideal,” Carine muttered, realizing she was no longer able to grasp onto the light within her. 

“The effects will be ephemeral, but should grant you enough power over the tower upon your return. As your forebear told you, you are bound by fate to Allag. Just as we were bound by fate to end Xande’s madness, such as the Doga and Unei before us,” Unei went on to explain. 

“Now, you must flee! We will break the covenant from here and raze the bridge connecting your world and this one once and for all,” Doga shouted, pointing them in the direction they needed to go. 

Unei approached Nero, who seemed determined to stand alongside them in this battle. “You must leave us as well, Nero,” she said and reached into her pocket. “What you seek with this may not be possible as you know it, but do not give up hope. There are many other paths that await you.” Her eyes focused on Carine, giving her a meaningful look. 

Nero followed her gaze and let out a deep sigh. “Of  _ course _ they do,” he replied as he took the device and attached it to his armor. 

The platform under their feet began to shudder as the gloom began to grow and blot out the dim light from the purple horizon, prompting Carine to pull G’raha along behind her. Once he snapped out of whatever daze he was in, the Miqo’te took to running on ahead towards the faint shimmering light that marked their exit. Carine wasn’t far behind, her lilac eyes darting all around as they fled to make sure no other voidsent blocked their path. 

A resounding blast from behind them urged their burning muscles into working harder and moving them faster in desperation to escape. With every moment, the bridge they were on grew weaker, fading as the effects of the covenant made between Xande and the Cloud of Darkness came to an end. 

A gasp and groan stopped the Warrior of Light in her tracks. She turned to see that Nero had fallen to his knees, his chest heaving with every breath and the wound at his side wet with fresh blood. She looked towards the fading rift and back at the Garlean and cursed as the weight of the necklace urged her to go back for him. 

“Leave me,” he growled as she hoisted him onto her shoulder. 

“Up, Nero. You’re not dying here today,” she grunted as she took on his added weight and began moving towards the light.

“I don’t need you. If I die here, it’ll be because I bloody well chose to,” he argued, pulling himself from his grasp. 

“Of for the love of Nophica, don’t fall to your bloody pride now.” She wanted to smack him across the face and bring him to his senses, but the light was fading fast and the bridge was getting weaker. As much as she wanted to stay here and force him to fight, there was an entire world of people on the other side of that door that needed her. “Please, Nero. Don’t make me leave you here.”

His blue eyes met hers and before she knew it he had pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss that set fire to every nerve in her body. Despite the danger, she clung to him, tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt the finality of it all. How easy it had been to hate him for the path he chose. How easy it was to blame him for getting them into this mess in the first place. How easy it was to fall right back into his arms the moment he showed even an onze of bravery and nobility…

Nero broke the kiss as quickly as he had initiated it, his hand still stroking the silver waves of her hair. “Go, damn you.”

Confliction warred within her as she tore herself from him and followed behind G’raha. As badly as she wanted to look back and see him one last time, she willed herself ahead. The kiss would be a better last memory than seeing him consumed by the darkness eating away at his very being. 

 

Nero watched as Carine ran from him, wiping the tears from her eyes as she left him to his fate. 

_ I can’t believe that bloody worked, _ he thought to himself as he willed his legs to support his weight. What he had used as a selfish act to just taste her one last time and break her heart all over again had left him equally confused and conflicted. He had thought that she would have smacked him, pushed him away, or even stabbed him for daring to kiss her without her permission. Instead she had kissed him as she always had in return and wept for him. 

Why, it was enough motivation to move his legs forward in hopes he might make it and find understanding as to why she seemed to care for him. 

“Th-this is not where I come to rest, oh no,” he coaxed himself, demanding his body to obey his will to survive. “Must keep moving.”

Every movement was agony. His muscles screamed in protest and his head was light from blood loss. He grew ever weaker as the darkness from this foul world feasted upon him, and he could tell that he was fading fast. He found himself wondering if he would even still live on the other side of the rift, or if the darkness could follow him there. 

Then, he felt that burden lifted. Nero glanced down at his arms, surprised to find the crystals forming upon his armor were disappearing at an alarming rate. When he took a breath, he could finally fill his lungs. When he looked at the wound at his side, he found it mending.

“But how did…?” he thought to himself as his energy was restored to him. 

_ There are still many paths that await you… _ Unei’s voice echoed in his mind, bringing a smile to his face. 

Without delay, Nero ran as fast as he could. He ignored the burn in his lungs or the strain in his side where the wound was still healing in favor of pushing himself harder and faster towards the light. Just before he reached it, however, the bridge that connected their worlds broke apart, shattering into a million pieces. He watched, heart sinking with the realization he was trapped here for eternity when an arm reached out and grasped his. 

For a moment, he thought it had been Carine that had reached through the portal to save him. He was nearly eager to promise a reward when he recognized the thick, muscled arm of Cid holding onto his own. 

“You owe me, Nero,” his rival smirked, though his face was gentle and teasing. 

Nero would have rather died than to owe Garlond anything, especially his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That kiss wasn't supposed to happen. GUYSS Why you do this to me?!


	5. On Sentiments and Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine is reminded as to why she should hate Nero...while he finds hope where there wasn't any before...and G'raha has an unintentional impact on the Warrior of Light.
> 
> _“You said my heroism would be the standard by which you would chart your course, my friend,” she spoke aloud, knowing full well he was long since gone. “But it is your courage and bravery by which I will set mine.”_

The moment Nero fell through the otherside he was bombarded with a flurry of people. In the brief time that they had been separated, Carine had sought out anyone with healing abilities or medical expertise. Naturally there were plenty with some form or another, but mostly it seemed that the people trying to “tend” to him were wanting nothing more than to study his unique affliction. Once they realized that there wasn’t an onze of dark matter upon him, they began dropping one by one until some mouse of an Au’Ra woman was left checking the wound at his side.

Carine, now knowing that her former husband was safe from death, turned her attention to G’raha. The Miqo’te was uncharacteristically quiet as he looked upon the great throne that had once belonged to Xande. She didn’t understand half of that last exchange he’d had with Unei and Doga, and she wasn’t sure what comfort she could offer him now to ease his troubled thoughts. So she stood there, fingers twisting before her and waited for him to speak.

“It appears they were successful,” he said without turning to her. “The covenant is now broken and the Cloud of Darkness no longer has a claim upon the land.”

“Would that we could have brought them with us,” Carine sighed. “There is much the Sons of Saint Coinach could have learned from them about Ancient Allag.”

“Aye, so much and more,” he agreed with a small nod. “Alas, there are some things better buried in the past never to see the light of day again, at least not in this time.”

“Such as?” She cocked her head to the side with a frown. 

G’raha turned to her then, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as her eyes widened. Where once he had odd eyes, green and red, the Miqo’te now sported two identical in the bright sanguine the clones had expressed. 

“I have finally remembered what I had been searching my mind for,” he told her, tapping his temple with a single finger. “It came to me not long after Unei and Doga shared pieces of themselves with me, like a piece to a difficult puzzle. Now I can remember things long forgotten from their time, things beyond my wildest dreams.”

“And what, pray tell, are these things you remember?”

He cast his gaze across the dais where the Sons of Saint Coinach milled about, exchanging their notes and comparing their data as if this had been just any ordinary day in their lives. Carine could sense a sadness coming from him, but before she could implore him for information he smiled at her. “You should rest. It is suffice to say that you have more than earned it. There is something that I must attend to before I join you.”

G’raha didn’t give her any time to question him further before walking off and leaving her behind. There was no point in pursuing him as it was made obvious he would rather be alone, so the Warrior of Light joined with the rest of their group. It was a decision she quickly regretted. The scholars were relentless in copying every little detail she could remember as they made their way back to their camp at the base of the Crystal Tower. 

She was sure by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs she had recounted her encounter with the Cloud of Darkness a hundred different times. She wasn’t so sure, however, that each retelling was exactly the same. It had been a long day, after all, and she had grown weary since returning to their world. 

Before she would retire to her tent, Carine decided to take a detour and stop by the one that had been erected for Nero. She hadn’t seen anything of him once he had been carted away and wondered if he had already left. When she entered his quarters, she was relieved to see that he was alone and twisting something in his hands as he laid upon his cot on the far side of the tent. 

Upon seeing her, he sat up with a start, the blanket that had been covering him falling to his waist and revealing him to be bare chested. As he eyes followed up the hard planes of his body, he answered her gaze with a cocky grin. 

“Eager to finish what we started back there in the Void?” he asked, swinging his long legs over the edge of the cot. 

Carine rolled her eyes and opted for the wooden stool that was sitting close by. “No, I just came to make sure that you were well,” she told him. Her eyes fell upon the scar at his side and went on, “That’s healed nicely, but why leave a scar?”

“It’s not everyday one can claim to have traveled to a world no one else has and lived to tell the tale. Others may not see it as proof enough, but I shall wear it proudly.”

It wasn’t lost on her that he seemed to take the words she had been thinking from earlier straight from her head. He was always so observant, and after spending as much time as they had together last year, quick to pick up what was on her mind. Mayhap she should be honored that he chose to mimic her way of remembering hard fought battles.

The Au’Ra woman from before entered the tent and blushed deeply upon seeing Nero shirtless. “Pardon me, my lord. I...I was unaware you had company,” she apologized, avoiding Carine’s curious glances as she set down a tray of two steaming mugs. At once she left, cheeks flushed crimson and head bowed low. 

For someone who wasn’t aware he had company, the girl had brought him two mugs of coffee that smelled suspiciously like the particular roast he had become partial to during their time together. 

“Should I have come at a later time?” she asked, a flash of jealousy sparking within her. “I’d hate to interrupt anything...intimate.”

Nero tossed his head back with a jovial laugh as he stood to retrieve one of the mugs. Though Carine protested, he put it in her hands before taking the other and brought it to his lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone might’ve been jealous just now,” he lifted a brow in her direction. “But that couldn’t be. As you said, our marriage became void once your nation attacked mine.”

“Mayhap I just find it in poor taste that you would take to sleeping with a complete stranger when just hours ago you were kissing me as if you were dying,” she pointed out, sipping her own draught. 

It was funny to her, how after nearly a year they were still sitting across from each other drinking coffee and arguing as though a year hadn’t passed between them. It almost made her miss those days trapped in his apartment where a moment like this could have lead…

“My, my, little bird. A gil for your thoughts?” the Garlean stared pointedly at her and then inhaled deeply with a lusty smile. “Or I could just wager a guess.”

Her face burned with embarrassment as she crossed her legs and looked down at the floor. How quickly she had forgotten just how sensitive a Garlean’s nose was, or just how eager he was to tease her about it. “No matter my thoughts, I have no intention on acting upon them.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged. 

Carine twisted her fingers around the mug, her mind going in a thousand directions at once. If she had been wise, she would have left him be and let him leave of his own accord and prayed no one saw him on the way out. She wasn’t wise, admittedly, and so she was here with no clue as to what to say or ask of the man. 

“You know,” she began, carefully choosing her words as she set the mug on the table. “When I told you to get swallowed by the Void, I didn’t mean that you should have done it literally.”

He chuckled into his cup, blue eyes shining just the way she remembered they had when he was in a good mood. “It seems your power knows no bounds. I hadn’t quite considered that until now.”

“I doubt I have control over whether or not the Void takes you. You getting trapped within was your own doing,” she tapped on the rim of the mug, still lost in her train of guilty thoughts. “I had every intention of killing you once I knew you yet lived.”

“Ah yes, I do believe Garlond warned me of your ravings,” he said. “Yet I still stand. Curious, is it not?”

The weight of the ring weighed heavily upon her neck as she considered how to answer him. “It’s funny,” she began, pulling it from between her breasts and over her head to look at it. “You always find a way to surprise me.”

He cocked a golden brow at that, blue eyes flitting to the ring in her fingers. “How do you figure?”

“Well, for starters, you saved my life when it would have benefitted you to let me die. Hardly the mindset of someone shoved up their own ass, if you ask me,” she grinned. “And then you decide to risk your life to warn me, the very person that pretty much single-handedly ended your career, about plans your new emperor has in store for me and people like me. Curious that a man loyal to Garlemald would do such a thing, no?”

She liked the mischievous smile at his lips. “Go on,” he instructed her with a motion of his hands. 

“And, for someone so desperate for even a modicum of power, you have yet to seek a way to control G’raha. Considering that he now has control of this tower and all the knowledge of how to create clones, I find it rather...uncharacteristic that you have yet to pick apart his mind or attempt to ferry him away right from under our noses,” Carine added. “And you allowed Unei and Doga to sacrifice themselves for us rather than fight that even one should still escape. I suppose that is a weak argument, considering it most likely had to take them both to do something like destroy the Cloud…”

“I see your point,” Nero interrupted her with an annoyed look. “So you think of me a hero?”

It took everything within her not to outright laugh at the man. “Oh, Blessed Nophica, no!” she giggled. “No one in their right mind would consider you a hero.”

Nero did not seem amused by her fit of giggles, his once bright face frowning as he leaned back in his chair. She could barely understand his mumblings when he crossed his arms over his chest and deemed it necessary to avoid her gaze. “It isn’t  _ that _ preposterous, you know.”

Carine’s hand landed on his knee, eyes wild with amusement and laughter as she smiled at him. “It is, but not impossible,” she told him. And she meant every word. “You could do so many great things if you so chose. Mayhap you could save the world. We both know you already might have by sending that Reaper,” she added. 

It would do no good to pretend he wasn’t the reason that she still stood today. Hells, it would do no good for Carine to try and make herself believe that she didn’t see some goodness in him. It was buried deep under years of being taught “Might is Right” and the thick layers of feeling second best to Cid nan Garlond, but she knew it had to be there. She had seen too much proof to believe otherwise.

Nero’s pale eyes glanced down at where her hand was now comfortably resting. “Do you really believe that?” he asked, a note of uncertainty in his words. It dangerously tugged at her heartstrings to see him having a moment of sincerity in her presence and she wanted nothing more that to show her faith in him and the man she hoped he could be.

“I’d like to believe the man that kept this ring with him would at least be willing to test out the possibilities beckoning this very moment,” she smiled sweetly at him, placing the hand with the small wedding band in his own. “I honestly never thought you the sentimental type.”

His hand flexed over hers, his eyes burning with an intensity that quickened her heart. It was dangerous business being this close to him, she knew that, but she wanted nothing more than for him to believe in himself enough to take a risk few others dared take. If only he would just let go of that foolish pride and damned ego of his…

Nero’s face dropped the seriousness of his expression and a bubble of laughter shook his shoulders. Where Carine had been leaning in, for what she didn’t know, she suddenly snapped back. Soon the Garlean was howling with laughter, tears twinkling in the corners of his eyes before being wiped away with the back of his hand. 

“For the love...of the...Allagans!” he roared, finding something she had said entirely too funny. 

“Pardon?”

“Apologies,” he sniffed and ran his hands through his short, blond locks that hung over his face. “The fact you think me sentimental at all is simply hilarious. And here I thought you knew me!” 

Carine blinked in utter bewilderment, thinking back on what she had said that would have elicited this response. She looked down at the ring, still sitting in her palm with a frown. “If you were not being sentimental, then why keep this?”

“Simple, my sweet little bird,” he said, taking her chin in his fingers and tracing the edge of her jaw. “It still works.”

“I’m quite certain I do not understand your meaning.”

Nero sighed and gave a last, long look at the silvery scar he had put there above her eye. It seemed almost as if he were committing it to memory before he released her and moved himself from out of her immediate reach. 

This deliberate placement did not go unnoticed. 

“You owe me a favor, Warrior. One I have every intent on reminding you of now that I will have a hangman’s noose awaiting me in Garlemald,” he explained. “Now, how can I call upon you to pay up if I haven’t the means to  _ find _ you.”

Suddenly his words made sense, and the weight of the ring became far too heavy in her hands. 

“You fucking  _ bastard, _ ” the Elezen hissed through gritted teeth. “You only kept this because you wanted to  _ find me? _ ”

“Ah, there is that fire I know,” he smiled devilishly, careful to stay just out of range of the angry Elezen. “How I have missed that boiling rage within you.”

Hot tears stung at her eyes, but Carine willed them away. He had hurt her before, that was true, but something about this cruel trick went deeper. 

_ I thought he cared… _ What a foolish child’s dream. Nero cared for none other than himself, as he proved time and time again. How she could have thought this meant anything more than a means to an end only proved that she was still the same, naive woman that had married him in the first place. 

“Go to hell,” she glowered, standing from her seat and making a point to leave. She had to before her anger lead to spilling those traitor tears from her eyes for his entertainment.

 

Nero watched her hesitate at the flap of his tent and half wondered if she would turn around to hit him. Finally, her lean form bent and exited, her shadow chasing behind her. He hadn’t intended on being needlessly cruel, and his honesty hadn’t been necessary to begin with. If she had thought he had kept it because it reminded him of her, the chances she would have worn it every day afterward was possibly higher than it was with his confession. 

But Nero found he didn’t like lying to her, especially not after she had expressed such hope for him. Her faith, however misplaced, was something he wasn’t used to. No one else, aside from the clones, seemed to think him capable of being better than he was. He was so used to being second best that the thought anyone believed that he could be more was unsettling. 

Yet here he was, striving for greatness in the midst of people who should want him dead, and the moment the most powerful person he knows displays any sort of faith he strikes them down without the use of his weapons. 

He cursed himself, heading back to his cot and digging through the woolen blankets until he found what he had been looking for. The earnest look in those lilac eyes of hers was seared into his memory, guilting him as he laid back on the cot and fixated on the object in his hand. 

_ Other paths to follow, eh? _ He thought to himself as he twisted the thick silver and black band that matched her own in his fingers.  _ Exploring possibilities? I suppose it isn’t the worst idea...If these possibilities beckon, then I am bound to follow. _ He smiled, slipping the ring back onto his hand.  _ Perhaps a new dawn is yet in store for the likes of me. _

 

***

 

Carine knew Nero was gone long before Biggs and Wedge had come to deliver the news. Had Cid not actively gone looking for the man to make sure he wasn’t bound to do anything that would compromise Carine’s now delicate position, she would have told him not to bother. To hell with Nero and his tricks and schemes. He could rot for all she cared. 

True to her word, however, the ring that he had bestowed to her hung on its silver chain around her neck, cleverly hidden from view. She had told him that she owed him for the information he gave her, and despite the sickness she felt within, she intended on keeping that promise. There was little reason to believe he would do anything to cause unrest within the Alliance as it was. He was a brilliant man with the sole focus on self-preservation. Destroying the delicate system that was now his only hope at a future would be against his better wishes. 

Funny how she could think more clearly now that he was out of the way.

“Blast it! I  _ knew _ I should have had guards posted outside his tent,” Cid cursed as he reunited with Carine at the golden gate to the tower.

“To what end? All it would have done was alerted people to his true identity,” she replied as she picked at her fingers. 

Cid crossed his arms over his thick chest, getting a good measure of her with one sweeping look. “What did you do?”

She scoffed, innocently blinking her narrow eyes at him. “I did nothing. It’s  _ him _ that was the issue all along. And here I thought you knew the man.”

“I could say the same for you,” he gently reminded her. “Lass, I don’t blame you for keeping the man alive, nor do I fault you for your efforts in bringing him back from the Void,” he went on. “Hells, I should thank you for putting my mind at ease, but you can’t find him the only guilty party in all this.”

_ I can when he uses me for his every whim, _ she thought sourly to herself. “I doubt he is going to give us much trouble. He’s, by all rights, a fugitive of Garlemald now as well as Eorzea. His only connection happens to be you and I and we just so happen to be very important people.”

Cid nodded in agreement. “Aye, lass, but knowing him he is apt to return at the most inopportune moment. ‘Tis best you are still planning on telling Minfilia and the other Scions just what happened in the Praetorium, yes?” 

His pointed stare and slight grin under that neatly trimmed beard was enough to make the Warrior of Light roll her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Heavens know if I don’t do it, you will,” she replied. “I’ll let her know upon our return.”

“Good,” he smiled warmly at her and she found she couldn’t be angry at the man. He only wanted what was best for her. If the world found out that she had willingly let a Tribunus Laticlavius go free, well...she would rather not linger on that train of thought.

“What of our friend, G’raha?” Rammbroes asked, joining with the pair of them as they waited at the gates. “Have you yet found him?”

Carine shook her head. The Miqo’te didn’t leave the tower at all the night before and none but the researchers that had been forced out from the spire had seen him since. It had been strange enough behavior that it prompted her to come and witness it for herself, wondering what it is her newest friend was up to. Everyone she had spoken to before Cid arrived hadn’t the slightest clue as to what the motivations were behind G’raha casting them out. It seemed evident enough that he had plans to seal the tower, but he hadn’t relayed this to anyone else as far as she knew.

“Ho, friends! Come to say your goodbyes?” G’raha’s friendly voice called out from within the tower. The three of them turned in unison and began to stroll towards him when he held up a hand to stop them. “Go no further. The doors will close ere long.”

Carine and Cid halted, looking to each other in confusion as Rammbroes continued on. The dark Roegadyn paused just outside the gate, looking down on his much smaller friend and confidant. “Would you at least explain to me your plan? A hint? I know time is of the essence, but sealing the tower without first discussing all our options…”

“...No, Rammbroes,” G’raha shook his head defiantly and crossed his arms over his chest. “My apologies, but this is something I must do on my own.”

“Oh come now, G’raha. This is nonsense! Surely there is something we could do to help…” the Roegadyn clenched his giant fists. “I have ever endeavored to aid you in whatever way I can, you know this.”

The Miqo’te smiled, a hint of pain hidden behind the red hue of his eyes as he looked up to the man he had followed for years now. “Not this time, my friend. There is naught you can do ‘Tis my destiny to be within this place much as it was Unei’s and Doga’s to undo the covenant.”

“But the tower is too much a threat to Eorzea as it is now. We have not the technology to even scratch the surface of what the Allagans had intended for this place. As it stands now, we may never fully comprehend its might,” Cid stepped forward, his voice erring on caution. 

Carine was the only one that did not challenge his decision. One look in his eyes and she knew that he had given it much thought before dedicating himself on this path. Whatever decision he had made, it had been done with great care and consideration towards those the Crystal Tower could potentially affect. She knew that look, felt the resolution behind it because it had echoed her own when she had decided to stand against the Garleans alongside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

His eyes met hers and a moment of understanding passed between them. “Be that as it may, Master Garlond, there are ways around that.”

“I don’t quite catch your meaning,” the engineer replied.

“What if I did as Amon did and put this tower into a deep slumber?” G’raha asked with a slight smirk. “Until such a time understanding did come to the people to where they could open the tower again?”

“You cannot mean that!” Rammbroes shook his head vehemently. “I would not allow this time to be the last I see you.”

“Be at ease, Rammbroes, ‘tis my decision to make. This has been my destiny from the start, I know this now. This tower was once a beacon of hope and prosperity during the peak of Allag. Even when the Fourth Calamity struck the land and diminished the great empire from its former glory, not all perished. There were those that survived and looked to this place, ever searching for this beacon. Among those that survived was the last of the royal line; Princess Salina.

“It was she that used the best of Allagan technology to seal her blood away in someone that she trusted above all else. That man was my forebearer. With him, there would always be a chance that this tower could rise again as the beacon of hope lost to a people so long ago. With Unei and Doga’s sacrifice, my mission was made clear; that I shall guide those with the means to open the tower and guide them with the technology and secrets hidden within. ‘Tis the future where my destiny awaits. Yours, however, awaits you just outside those doors.”

It began to become difficult for Carine to swallow as a knot of emotions threatened to choke her. In such a short time, she had found a friend in the man she was now being forced to say farewell. Such was the will of fate and destiny, she knew that, but it didn’t make the burden easier to bear as she forced a smile for him. 

“Is there naught we can say to change your mind?” Cid asked, patting the broad back of the crestfallen Roegadyn beside him. G’raha shook his head, but there was no sadness within him, only the burning passion of hope. 

“I suppose...you will bear witness to the accomplishments our team makes. I pray we have many successes, and that you forgive us of whatever failures we procure along the way,” Rammbroes sighed, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. 

“We’ll catch up with Allag yet!” Wedge cried out, his tiny legs working triple time to keep up with the longer legs of Biggs running beside him. “Apologies we didn’t get here sooner.  _ Someone _ couldn’t quit tinkering with that machine we made for a few minutes just to say goodbye.”

Biggs shrugged his large shoulders, but echoed the same sentiments. 

“May the Twelve keep you all, till then,” G’raha smiled, the first sign of emotion glistening in his eyes. “I look forward to see what your exploits will bring. And you-” he turned to Carine, opening his arms and allowing her to cross the barrier for a moment to grace him with a tight embrace. “I know history will remember you. Your heroism will no doubt be the standard I shall set my course.”

“You will be missed,” she replied, squeezing him tight. One last time she ran her fingers through his hair and scratched just behind his ear, bringing out the purr he hated so much. “But I know you will do great things. May the Twelve guide you.”

If he wanted to be angry with her, it faded quickly at her words. “Thank you for understanding.”

Carine hurried back through the gate just as the great doors shifted and began to slowly close. Biggs comforted Rammbroes as he watched G’raha turn, waving them farewell as he retreated into the shadows within. 

While the others helped to guide the grieving Roegadyn back to the camp, Carine opted to sit by the golden gates a little longer. Her back pressed against the cold, hard surface as she sank to the floor, her mind a complete mess. She understood this sacrifice, but still found it incredibly difficult to accept. Her role as the Warrior of Light put her in danger, but it didn’t threaten to displace her from the time and people she knew and loved the way his did.

She pulled the ring from under her shirt, looking down at it as if it were the key to all of her questions. What sacrifices would she be required to make on her journey? Would she be so certain and determined as G’raha to bear them? Who might she lose along the way?

“You said my heroism would be the standard by which you would chart your course, my friend,” she spoke aloud, knowing full well he was long since gone. “But it is your courage and bravery by which I will set mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes the Crystal Tower arc part of this fic ^^ went on longer than I intended, but was terribly important for everything that will eventually follow, in this fic and in those that come after :)


	6. Visitors from the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine is forced into a diplomatic situation and performs beautifully...
> 
> Not.

“Ah! There’s my darling girl!” Elaine exclaimed the moment Carine walked into the Rising Stones. The Elezen was startled by the sudden rush as her mother swept her into her arms in a quick embrace, kissing her face and then holding her out at arm’s length to give her a look over.

“Mama? What are you doing here?” the Warrior of Light asked. Normally, Elaine Monteil was found tending her youngest daughter’s garden back in the Lavender Beds of Gridania or weaving some of the finest custom garments within her small cottage. To see her in the rugged outlands of Mor Dhona was a rare sight indeed, and one not entirely welcome currently. 

The older Elezen tsked and tutted, worrying over every little fray and scrape and stain Carine’s clothes had suffered along her journey. “Honestly, Carine, could you at least  _ try _ and not ruin every little thing I create for you? This shirt was meant for a nice evening out, not for saving the world.”

She rolled her eyes and submitted to her mother’s gentle scoldings. It was difficult business being the mother of the Savior of Eorzea and Eikon Slayer. If worrying over Carine’s state of dress put the woman’s mind at ease upon her return, then she was glad to do it. 

“Tell me, how did you do it this time?” Elaine asked, finally tearing the deep blue of her eyes from the old stains and rips of her garments to face her daughter.

Carine lead her mother to one of the tables that was situated not far from the bar and ordered a couple of afternoon teas to occupy their hands while she retold the story. Elaine loved listening to her heroic tales, even if they left her heavy hearted afterwards. It was always easier to think of everything that could have gone wrong, and should have, when one was given the time to consider them. She strategically left Nero out, knowing that her mother believed him dead at her hands just like everyone else. 

“So you not only fought off  _ the _ Emperor Xande, but you also traveled to the Void and fought against a voidsent?” Elaine asked, eyes wide at the thought. “If it weren’t for everything you have accomplished thus far, I’d hardly believe mine own ears.”

“Aye,” Carine nodded as she licked the traces of tea and honey from her lips. “If it weren’t for the scars I keep, I’d believe it all to be a dream myself. Or nightmare.”

There were times that she found it incredibly difficult to believe that she was this hero that nearly everyone in Eorzea looked up to. Just a year ago she was nothing more than the eldest daughter to a single mother that had defected from Ishgard. Her titles had included being a hunter and merchant with the more impressive being Wood Wailer or God’s Quiver, and there hadn’t been a heroic act to her name. 

Hells, even after she had become the wife of Tribunus Laticlavius, Nero tol Scaeva, she had certainly not been anything  _ more _ than what she had always been. Yet, in the here and now, she was a savior to those that had thought the Empire would take them as they did Ala Mhigo and an idol to be raised upon a pedestal. 

She wasn’t sure if this was a better position than she had been in before, or if it was worse. 

Carine opted to stay and catch up with her beloved mother rather than immediately seek out Minfilia for an update. She openly wondered why Elaine had come to Revenant’s Toll, as it had been Carine’s express concern to not involve her mother with the Scions. Of course, Elaine always had a mind of her own and would do as she damn well pleased, but if anything were to happen in the wake of the Scion’s sudden rise to fame, she knew she wouldn’t forgive herself if her mother were caught in the crossfires. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying, however. Already her patience had been thinned and tested, tried and pressed more times than she could count thanks to the endless wave of favors requested of her mother. Had the Warrior of Light not actively threatened to use her goddess given powers on the next person that approached Elaine, she was sure the woman would still have a line of unwanted visitors outside her door. 

Not a shining moment in her favor, Minfilia always reminded her. 

“Ah, Carine, you have returned!” 

The Elezen turned and caught sight of the gentle Highlander as she exited her solar for the common areas of their new locale. She was dressed in her usual dignitary attire; a light pink top framed by a leather halter, dark brown breeches with thigh high traveling boots, and a decorative skirt that Carine honestly found to be a bit on the excessive side. To be dressed in such a way and flanked by Crystal Braves, it appeared that she was heading somewhere important. 

“Aye, we haven’t been back but for maybe a bell,” she replied. 

“Good. So Cid is in his workshop then?” Minfilia asked, making a move to the door that would lead out to Seventh Heaven. Not trusting that the Garlean wouldn’t tell her their tale of the goings on at the Crystal Tower, Carine quickly abandoned her mother with a small apology before joining the antecedent. 

“As far as I figure. Where are you off to?” she asked, innocently diverting the woman’s attention for a moment. 

“There has been an unusual development,” the blonde paused once they entered the tavern that housed their new location. “Mayhap ‘twould be best that you journeyed with us. Alphinaud is waiting in Ul’dah even as we speak.”

Minfilia began walking forward again, hardly pausing long enough to wait for Carine to catch up. “Is aught amiss?”

The Hyur didn’t answer right away, choosing to march straight to the workshop that Cid had designated his own and the base of operations for the Ironworks. The Elezen quickened her step, matching her stride for stride as they entered the shop, careful to avoid the bits and pieces of broken magitek parts that littered the floor. 

It wasn’t a huge workspace, but more than enough for the Engineer and his assistants to do what they needed to for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Workbenches lined the walls, filled with various things Carine couldn’t even begin to name despite having been married to one herself. Four thick pillars acted as the support in each corner and a hallway jutted from the back wall that lead to living quarters for the crew. 

In the center of the room stood a worn, broken Reaper, the very same one that had come to her rescue at Nero’s behest all those months ago. Cid had offered to piece it back together for the Warrior of Light and she hadn’t declined. As she had seen it, it was a last gift from Nero, something she had wanted to treasure.

Now all she wanted was to watch the bloody thing burn. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Minfilia?” the white haired Garlean asked, peeling off his grease blackened gloves in her presence. 

“I know the two of you have but just arrived, but I have needs to travel to Ul’dah urgently,” the antecedent explained. “I would use the aetheryte, but there may yet be use for your  _ Enterprise. _ ”

He raised a brow at that. “I’m more than happy to lend you the  _ Enterprise, _ but might I ask why?”

“Two days ago a ship landed just outside of Vesper Bay. Within it was two hundred Doman refugees seeking shelter,” the blonde explained, her eyes casting low to the ground. “It seems the Warrior of Light had inspired them for their own uprising against the Empire. Alas, they had been ill-prepared for the might of the Garleans currently occupying their nation and their resistance has been utterly crushed.”

Carine’s heart sank, hardly able to imagine what sort of devastation had been wrought upon the land that two hundred people had to escape to survive. There was little question as to why they came to Eorzea when they had been successful in their rebellion, but that opened a whole host of issues that the Warrior of Light wasn’t sure she was ready to address.

“Gods…” Cid let out a sigh. “Ul’dah, you say?”

Minfilia nodded. “I’ll meet you at your ship in half a bell. Would that be enough time to gather what you need for the journey?”

He nodded in response and barked a few orders at Biggs and Wedge to help prepare them for travel while the antecedent left to finish her own preparations. Seeing as she had nothing to really prepare, Carine helped his assistants to the best of her ability. 

“I take it you haven’t told her about Nero,” Cid said, giving her a sidelong glare just after he was sure Minfilia was gone. 

“It’s not like I have had the chance,” she hissed in response. “Let’s settle things as they are right now before I add that surprise, shall we?”

The Elezen welcomed the distraction, temporary as it may be as she followed the Ironworks gang from their workshop to the landing field just outside of Revenant’s Toll. She had barely any time to rest and recover after the ordeal at the Crystal Tower as it was. Thinking about the loads of menial messenger missions she might be subject to now because of her insubordination from last year was the last thing she wanted to do. 

 

***

 

“‘Tis good to see you have returned,” Alphinaud beamed at Carine as she followed obediently behind Minfilia. “I trust everything at the tower went well?”

The Warrior of Light was nearly ready to give the same recount as she had given her mother back in Mor Dhona, but a strange woman dressed in blacks and purples distracted her. It was clear that this was the emissary of Doma, given the mask that hid her face and the eastern attire that she wore, but if that hadn’t given it away it was certainly her calm, gentle mannerisms that did. 

“Ah, pardon my rudeness. Minfilia, Carine, I would like to introduce you to Yugiri Mistwalker of Doma. It is she who speaks for those upon the ship harbored in Vesper Bay,” the young Elezen smiled, stepping to the side to allow the women to speak and take measure of each other. 

“Glad am I to meet you, Yugiri. I pray we are able to help you and your people,” Minfilia smiled softly. 

The woman gave an Eastern greeting, nothing Carine hadn’t bore witness to before, and removed her hood and mask to reveal a Raen Au’Ra beneath. Her hair hung thick and straight down to her waist, black as midnight while her pale skin and scales contrasted it nicely. Gentle, green eyes with dark green limbal rings met their gazes as she stoically greeted them. 

“Words cannot express my humble gratitude for your presence,” the Au’Ra told them both. “Mayhap the kami shall smile upon us this day.”

Carine didn’t know much about the kami or eastern culture, but she echoed the sentiment all the same. Minfilia had filled her in on the flight over, expressing her concern that the Domans had chosen to approach the Syndicate of all the city-states for a chance at receiving aid. Carine knew all too well that Ul’dah would likely be the last place they would get help from, given the current number of starving Ala Mhigan refugees crowding their streets at this moment, but it was a surprise to hear that they had chosen to at least meet with them on the matter. 

Whether this was a good or a bad thing, the Warrior of Light could not rightly say. 

They waited for nearly half a bell before the small party was lead into the Royal Promenade. Within the room stood the same long table Carine recognized from the first time she had been received here, however rather than there being the three Alliance leaders and the Scions to fill the seats, there were several people she had never met before. Each one stopped their hushed discussions, eyes turning in unison to greet the newcomers. 

Carine had never felt so judged in her entire life, and this was the very room where two of the three Alliance leaders had nearly decided to turn her over to the Garleans. Calculating eyes looked her up and down, analyzing her worth as she followed behind Minfilia and Yugiri to the head of the table to make their case. 

“Apologies for requesting your presence so suddenly. I know it cannot have been easy for you all to join us this eve,” Minfilia began. Her tone was sweet and gentle, yet firm and confident. The voice of a leader. 

“I’ll admit, ‘twas not the best of times to be interrupted,” a Lalafell, sitting just to the right of Nanamo Ul Namo, crossed his small arms over his chest. 

“What Lord Lolorito means to say is, this matter is important enough to warrant our immediate attention,” the Sultana said gracefully. “We welcome you, Scions, and you, people of Doma to our city and home.”

Greetings were made and names exchanged between the Monetarists and Syndicate of Ul’dah and Yugiri, who was speaking on behalf of the Doman refugees. Carine waited for the pleasantries to subside, choosing to lean against a stout, painted pillar and watch the meeting unfold. She wasn’t sure what her role would be in this, but she had a gut feeling that things were not going to remain so easy going as they were now. 

“I do not wish to waste anymore of your time than is necessary,” Yugiri stepped forward. “I am Yugiri Mistwater of Doma. My people have traveled far to escape the tyranny of the Empire that plagues us. My lord had thought to raise a rebellion in the wake of the success lead by the Warrior of Light, but our efforts were crushed before there was any hope of success. 

“My plea is humble, allow us to stay within your city. In exchange, we can bolster your armies, tend to your fields, craft most anything that can be desired. We would not meagerly accept your hospitality without making an effort to earn our keep.”

It was a well thought out request, one that could potentially benefit Ul’dah should they take them up on the offer, at least in Carine’s opinion. Men and women capable and willing to work for simple shelter, perhaps even for less pay than some of the more advantageous people of Thanalan society? Wasn’t that a rich man’s dream?

“And just how many people have you brought to our shores, Lady Yugiri?” Lolorito asked. 

“On the galleon anchored just outside of Vesper Bay has two hundred,” the Au’Ra replied. “But there are five more ships with just as many people not long behind.”

Carine sucked in a breath at that. It was one thing to request shelter for two hundred people and she knew even that was pressing the limits of what resources Ul’dah could offer, but a thousand? 

She wasn’t the only one to see the obstacle now presented before them as several of the Monetarists either sat back in their seats or leaned forward to glance at each of their peers. The only person who didn’t seem to be too taken aback by such a number was a Lalafell to the left of the Sultana by the name of Teledji Adeledji. He seemed calm and collected, stroking the stylized greying whiskers on his face as he listened to the woman pleading their case. 

“Mayhap ‘twould do us good to accept the aid of those escaping the Empire,” his high, pitchy voice said after it was clear that the Au’Ra had finished. “To my understanding, the Immortal Flames and Brass Blades lost several good warriors that day. This provides us with a rare opportunity to refill those ranks and even add to them, in the case of an inevitable attack by the Garleans once again.”

Lord Lolorito shook his head in a firm ‘no’. “Be that as it may, you have yet to consider the  _ investment _ these refugees would cost us. Even should they prove worth their weight in gil, the initial price would be astronomical for sheltering a thousand people of which, I can assume, at most half are capable of working.”

Several of the Monetarists nodded their head in agreement, some of them even choosing to use the pens and parchment set before them to begin making calculations. Carine rolled her eyes. These were the wealthiest people in Ul’dah, some of them even the wealthiest in all of Eorzea. She understood that helping others wasn’t cheap, but to provide the basic necessities wouldn’t have bankrupted any of these men or women sitting at this table today.

“If we were to invest in this endeavor it would create an outrage within our own citizens,” another Monetarist pointed out. “I would hardly find it fair that our leaders would provide room and board in exchange for a fraction of trained soldiers and crafters. There would be children and the elderly that would need care as well, a luxury our own citizens cannot often afford.”

As each person added another excuse as to why helping the Domans would be a poor decision on behalf of Ul’dah, Carine found more reason in Gaius’ logic and Garlemald’s methods. There was no question of whether or not it could be done or if it was feasible, but rather it simply  _ would _ be done. And that was a nation that had nearly gone extinct for lack of women to help them repopulate. 

“If the Garleans are able to provide basic needs for those not even of their own race, then how is it you cannot find the coin to at least erect a temporary camp outside your walls to provide shelter from the elements?” Carine opened her mouth without second thought to what she had just said. 

The room immediately stilled, each person bristling at the casual mention of their fated foes and the implication that they would do less than them. Had it not been for Minfilia’s open-mouthed stare, or the way the Sultana sank in her chair, Carine wouldn’t have even thought she had spoken her words aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Lolorito exclaimed, turning his masked face to stare her down. 

There was no point in pretending she hadn’t meant her question, nor apologize for asking it, so Carine shrugged her shoulders and asked again. 

“How is it that Garlemald, that had started as little more than a small, annexed nation, was able to rise in power to provide for those that were unable to provide for themselves?”

“We are  _ not _ Garleans, and I find myself surprised that you would defer to their ways when it comes to the governing of  _ your _ people,” the Lalafell pointed to her. “After all, was it not you that took up arms against the nation that had drafted you to being a bride in the first place?”

Carine rolled her eyes and pushed herself from her casual position to take her place at the rectangular table. “I am not implying that you are Garleans, but I am not so blind or bloody proud to think that their methods may not have merit, especially to this cause.”

“And what, pray tell, are these methods they implemented that you so admired?” A female Lalafell asked from her chair. “You  _ are _ an expert after all, having been married to one.”

Her hands twitched, threatening to clutch into fists at the implication the Monetarist was making, but she managed to breathe through it. “For one, they require all able bodied people into service of their military. You have a thousand people at your shores, and yes, only a fraction may be able to serve, but they have already proclaimed to be willing. 

“Two, they have academies for the children who are unable to be taken care of by their parents,” Carine went on, her memories flitting to what her Echo had showed her of Nero’s past. “Food, shelter, education, all were provided for those children in exchange for their service once they were old enough.”

“So you are suggesting we militarize our people? Provide them with basic needs in exchange for their very lives? What would separate us from the Garleans, should we do such a thing?” Another Monetarist asked, rather horrified at the thought. 

Minfilia stepped forward, panic in her blue eyes as she tried to reverse the path this conversation had turned. “I believe what the Warrior of Light means to say is…”

“I can speak for myself, Antecedent,” Carine snapped, her purple eyes narrowing at the nobility before her. Each one was dressed in rich silks and golden chains. Just outside she knew they had a home with too many rooms and servants that waited on them hand and foot. Some of them even had multiple homes across Thanalan and even Eorzea, not to mention the countless businesses they each owned and controlled. “And I mean  _ exactly _ as I said. If the Garleans could rise from a nation on the brink of desolation to the Empire that now rules over half the world in just fifty years, how is it that the lot of you cannot afford to erect temporary shelter for a struggling people willing to work for you?”

Her hands shook with the anger and disappointment she felt within. Of course she would never suggest that they subject people who were unwilling to such a compromise, but the Domans were desperate. Would that she had the money and the means to provide for them herself, but everything she earned she either sent to her mother or invested into the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. 

“I wouldn’t ask a warrior to understand the logistics of the cost of such an endeavor, even one as simple as erecting temporary shelter, however I will not be insulted by being compared to as less than a Garlean!” Lord Lolorito huffed, his cheeks reddened with his disapproval. “In case you are not aware, Warrior of Light, we already have a host of Ala Mhigans knocking at our doors and have been for several years now. How, pray tell, do you figure they will react when they discover we have opened our pocketbooks for those not even of Eorzea? Even  _ if _ I were to entertain the thought of helping these Domans, they simply are not of our people.”

Carine slammed her fist down on the table, her jaw clenching and unclenching with a rage she was barely able to control. “Then mayhap I shall remember your words the next time the lizardmen summon Ifrit,” her voice was just above a whisper, harsh and direct. “Last I recall, I am not born of Thanalan like you.”

“You forget yourself,” Minfilia admonished her. Her tone was criticizing, disapproving, and served as a warning and a reminder that they were already treading on thin ice. 

“Might I suggest an intermission to clear and cool our heads?” Nanamo Ul Namo suggested quietly from her seat. The Monetarists were quick to agree, their harsh stares watching Carine with disapproving interest as they walked by. The moment they had left the room, Minfilia rounded on her. 

“Do you ever control that temper of yours?” she asked, her mouth pressed in a firm line. 

“That was me controlling my temper,” the Elezen replied, sitting herself in one of the empty chairs and resting her boots upon the table. “They are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? You think them unreasonable?” the blonde clapped a hand to her head and shook it in disbelief. “We are asking them to use money from their own coffers to fund these refugees and potentially put marks upon their own heads by those that might strongly oppose the idea and you think them unreasonable?”

“If the Garleans -”

“No, Carine,” Minfilia’s eyes flashed dangerously as she looked down on her. “We are not the Garleans, nor should we aspire to be.”

The Elezen stared up at her with hardened eyes. It was hardly rare that she and the Hyur didn’t see eye to eye, though usually that came from Minfilia using her as a walking advertisement to support the Scions than because of their stance on how the city-states were run. “I’m not suggesting that we aspire to be like Garlemald,” she replied calmly, surprising herself. “I’m suggesting that we aspire to be  _ greater _ than Garlemald. They have a system that obviously works, no one can deny that, but we can all agree that it’s wrong in how they implement it. If there were a way to improve the system they already have, why wouldn’t we choose to use that to our advantage?”

“Because there are still people living this very moment that would see us taking those ideas and finding every reason to fear that we will do the same,” the woman countered. “This is a delicate situation that requires a delicate hand. Think not that I oppose your idea, but believe when I say that there is a better way than force and intimidation to reach a common goal.”

Carine sighed and waved her arm in defeat. There was no point in arguing with the woman that was her leader. At the end of the day, her word was law, not Carine’s. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t find that law ridiculous or weak, but rarely could she come up with a better alternative. 

“If I may,” Alphinaud spoke up for the first time since his introduction. “Mayhap there is a compromise to be seen here that would benefit all parties involved.”

“You have my ear, Alphinaud,” Minfilia turned to the younger Elezen, giving him her undivided attention. 

“The Domans are seeking refuge and willing to work for whomever might provide their elders and young with shelter and safety. What if we were to provide that for them?” he asked. 

“The Scions hardly have the resources…” Minfilia began before he held a hand to cut her off.

“I am well aware of what the Scions can and cannot afford, however their situation is hardly different than ours was nary a few months ago.”

Carine listened in, remembering their own struggles with the city-states and their allegiance. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were meant to be a neutral group whose sole purpose was to help the Grand Companies against the rising threat of Primals. They, however, did not see it the same way. 

The Monetarists and residents of Thanalan believed the Scions were beholden to them because they had chosen Vesper Bay as their base of operations. Once the location of the Waking Sands had been released to the general population, dozens of missives were sent to the Scions to help them settle issues that ranged from property disputes to chasing refugees from the walls of Ul’dah. 

On the other hand, the Gridanians felt as though the Warrior of Light was  _ theirs _ to use at every whim. Some of them went as far as sending their requests directly to Elaine believing her mother would pass them along to her. Any time Carine dared visit her home, she was immediately bombarded with people desperately seeking her assistance with every little thing when all she wanted to do was rest or find some form of normalcy that she desperately missed since being called as a bride. 

The only city-state with no direct ties to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn or the Warrior of Light was Limsa Lominsa, but even they were wont to seek their aid on the grounds that the others had been given favoritism. Nevermind that the bloody pirates of La Noscea were far stingier with their coin than the other two nations or that their requests nearly always suggested that Carine be taken out to sea. While she was usually more than eager to help those that truly needed her aid, the Elezen had learned in her fight against Leviathan that she was most certainly  _ not _ seaworthy. 

With no place to go that wouldn’t have found reason to think the Scions in direct favor of one over another, Alphinaud had suggested they set base in Revenant’s Toll. Mor Dhona was a vastly unexplored region with little resources to provide for them, but it was a neutral territory with no ties to any of the city-states. Aside from that, it also offered them an aetheryte that would allow them to be transported anywhere in Eorzea in a moment’s notice...a handy investment considering the Monetarists denied their request time and time again to have one installed in Vesper Bay.

“...’twould not be an easy task…” Minfilia’s cautious words brought Carine out of her mind and back to the present. 

“Nay, but it would add to our own numbers. Yugiri has people trained as Shinobi, shadow warriors,” Alphinaud replied, neither of them realizing Carine had missed half the conversation. “We could reduce the number of Braves guarding the Rising Stones in favor of using them to guard you.”

“I can see to it that we require no more than you are able to give,” Yugiri spoke up. “We would be most grateful towards you if the people of Ul’dah will turn us away.”

“A likely scenario, unfortunately,” Alphinaud replied, his sapphire blue eyes scolding Carine where she sat. 

“‘Tis their own fault they are greedy bastards,” she shrugged. “Mayhap had I not made so many investments towards our own cause…”

“An excellent idea, Carine,” Minfilia now smiled at her, bristling the Elezen where she sat. “Since you are so eager to help these people, it shall be your investments which go towards their wellbeing.”

_ Could be worse… _ she thought to herself as she nodded in agreement. Then again, just imagining the workload of menial tasks the antecedent would pile on for her to help make up that initial cost was likely to keep her more than busy for the next twenty years.

It wasn’t much later that the Monetarists and Nanamo Ul Namo rejoined them. Some of them seemed to be in much better spirits while others still glanced at Carine suspiciously. Much like before, it was impossible to read exactly what was on Teledji’s mind as he smiled generously towards her. 

“I take it all is well?” the Sultana asked, looking between Carine and Minfilia with a worried expression. 

With all her grace, the antecedent bowed and smiled. “A simple misunderstanding, I assure you. My apologies to all in the room for my friend here,” she looked at each one in turn before glancing at Carine. “She did not intend to imply that we should do as the Garleans do, only to see what they do that works and improve upon it, if we are able. We are still working on her diplomacy.”

This seemed to ease the minds of the more suspicious lot of them, not that it erased all their doubts. 

“The floor is open for any and all proposals,” Nanamo said, nodding to the rest of them. 

“On behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, we will take any and all Doman refugees within the borders of Mor Dhona,” Alphinaud stepped forward. “Of course you all are well aware of the cost it would take to ferry them to Revenant’s Toll and give them adequate shelter, so forgive us should we increase the prices on lending your our services.”

This seemed agreeable with the people in the room. Carine thought it utterly maddening that they would still technically be paying for their cause, though she supposed this way would allow them to tax their people even more. That made it a slippery slope that she wasn’t quite sure she agreed with, especially given the plight of the poor and downtrodden that  _ were _ their citizens, but there was little her position would allow her to do about it. 

“It is settled then,” Lord Lolorito curtly nodded.

“Not quite so,” Teledji Adeledji interjected with a cunning smile. “There is still the matter of the refugees at our gates. It would be in poor form to allow the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to show an open door policy to those that have not lived within their own borders whilst we keep ours closed to those just outside our gates.”

The Sultana turned her attention to him, eyes seemingly wary as she asked, “And what would be your proposal?”

“Simple, we should follow in the Scions’ footsteps, should we not? There is a piece of land that none of the city-states have claim to that would be ripe for the taking, why not relocate the Ala Mhigans to Carteneau?” the Lalafell suggested, leaving Carine’s mouth dry. 

As far as she knew, no one had been to Carteneau since that fatal day where Bahamut had risen and destroyed all upon the battlefield. A revisit to one of the most traumatic moments in Carine’s life was not something she was eager for. 

Minfilia shook her head, “I fear that the devastation wrought upon Carteneau would make the living there far more uncomfortable than living outside your gates.”

“Ah, but it would be if there wasn’t someone willing to provide them the resource. I have the means and they have the need. It would be a most advantageous relationship, would it not?” Teledji went on. 

“I still feel it a bad idea,” Lolorito stated. “To give to one group would call those not within that group to action against us. An uprising would cripple Ul’dah.”

“So it would, but, my friend, wouldn’t an uprising potentially be at our very gates should the Ala Mhigans take up arms? Relocating them away from our city would benefit not only their cause, but our own as well.”

The Sultana stood in her seat and cleared her throat, effectively taking the floor. “My apologies, Scions and Lady Yugiri. It appears the answer to your plight has awoken the need to find an answer for our own,” she said. “As for the rest of us, this is a debate for another time. Lord Teledji, I would ask that you propose a bill to bring forth to our council when next we meet detailing this plan of yours. Lord Lolorito, I expect a well thought out counter against his bill so that we may make a clear, well informed decision. For now, I adjourn this meeting.”

One by one they filtered from the room. Carine ignored them, her eyes far more interested in this Teledji Adeledji that seemed to stay and linger. For a Monetarist, he seemed far too keen in helping those that could not help themselves and she briefly wondered what he could see as being advantageous for him in the long run. 

“Many thanks for your endorsement,” Lady Yugiri bowed to the Lalafell. 

“Speak nothing of it. A shame my fellows are unable to see the need to help those that have already suffered so much, especially after having had their assets saved by the Scions and their Warrior of Light,” he replied, casting his large, round eyes at Carine. “A thankless job you appear to have.”

It certainly felt that way at times, but remembering her outburst from earlier, she bit her tongue. It was already likely that there would be more than hell to pay for her lack of control once they were back at the Rising Stones. 


	7. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine is starting to realize just how much influence she has in Eorzea...
> 
> And it's not a pleasant experience.
> 
> Alphinaud's continued success in being a vital member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn _might_ be giving him a big head.

As Minfilia had predicted, the  _ Enterprise _ was needed to transport Yugiri and her few associates back to Vesper Bay to begin preparations to travel to Mor Dhona. Urianger, who had been given control over the Waking Sands in the wake of the Scions moving to Revenant’s Toll, opened their doors to allow as many of the refugees as possible into their quarters. Cid helped fly as many of them from the ship to the shore to reduce the amount of time it would take for them to get out of the cramped quarters. 

They were so busy with just the basic preparation that Minfilia hadn’t the time to speak with Carine, and the Elezen was more than happy to give the antecedent space. That didn’t stop the Hyur from asking that she be the person to lead and protect the Domans on their journey from Vesper Bay to Mor Dhona once Teledji’s loaned caravans arrived to assist them. 

If she had thought that it would be an easy task, Carine couldn’t have been further from the truth. Between having to round up the bloody children that were hiding throughout Vesper Bay and convincing the Domans to ride in caravans pulled by apparently stinky horse-birds, she also had to bargain with the drivers of these caravans on the cost of transport. She had thought that this was meant to be as a service provided by Teledji, but according to the man driving them, payment was expected. 

_ There goes what’s left of my gil, _ she thought nastily as she handed him a pouch.

“This is all you’ve got? For being the Warrior of Light?” the driver complained as he weighed the bag in his hands. 

“Tell me, do you have a daughter?” Carine asked sweetly as she pretended to search her pockets for more. 

“Bloody three of them,” he replied with a grin, watching her eagerly for more coin. 

“Then consider the fact they won’t have to face the fucking draft in their lifetime as my payment for this venture then,” she snapped, grabbing her coin purse from his hand and stomping off. “Thankless job. If only he knew…”

It wasn’t that Carine wanted to be thanked by the people of Eorzea, she had bore witness to the countless reunions made after the Garleans were gone and that was well worth the price she paid. It wasn’t even that she wanted to be praised or remembered for stopping Ultima or the Primals that constantly seemed to be threatening them now. A little respect was all she asked. Just because she worked alongside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn did not make her a tool to be used by anyone that damn well pleased. 

Apparently, now that the Garlean threat was seemingly thwarted and the last wave of Primals defeated, there was no need for formality between the citizens of Eorzea and the Warrior of Light. She was a resource to be used when needed and discarded and forgotten when not. 

 

It took several days to move the host of two hundred across Thanalan to the rugged terrain of Mor Dhona. Carine’s skills with her bow came in handy more often than not in the wilderness they traversed, especially when they had to travel through basilisk territory. Luckily for her, the Domans she had come to know as the Shinobi were far more adept at their craft than the Monetarists of Ul’dah would have given them credit for. 

They fought using daggers, much like Thancred, but there was a finesse they had that the rugged rogue certainly lacked. They were quick, agile, and were so graceful in their technique that Carine found their way of fighting more of an artform than simply as a means for survival. That wasn’t to say that the Shinobi weren’t deadly. Their blades were precise and sharp, their focus indomitable. 

The Warrior of Light was eager to add these techniques to the arsenal of skills that she had already acquired through her training...until she discovered they had woven magic to hone those skills themselves. Much to her delight, however, was that it didn’t take much mana to be successful in using these techniques. By the time they reached Revenant’s Toll, Carine was already grasping the very basics of becoming a Shinobi herself and how to use her aether to enhance the skills already at her disposal.

The small town was already a bustle of activity upon their arrival. The Scions had quickly pulled together their limited resources to section off some land just outside the town for the Domans to call home for now. True to Yugiri’s word, the refugees wasted no time in being put to work. Without hesitation they began unloading the caravans and working with a single minded determination to erect tents and shelter for themselves and their people. Several of them immediately registered with the local adventurer’s guild to begin bringing in profit while others went to the market to showcase their wares. 

Carine offered to take those that were capable out hunting to some of her favorite spots, giving them advantage in finding food sources to keep them from going hungry. She also pointed out several places where they could gather resources to help with their crafting or alchemy. They accepted each offer of help graciously and never once complained for the lack of luxury. 

If only the people of Eorzea could be so gracious. 

 

“Carine? If you’ve a moment?” Minfilia called out to her. The Elezen had been entertaining the children of Doma with her harrowing tales of facing the Primals, much to their delight. It kept most of them from getting into too much trouble or being in the way while their elders erected their camps or did their duties for the day, and Carine was more than happy to oblige. 

“I’m sure that Coultinet and Honorary can keep this lot on their toes,” she winked in the Roegadyn and Elezen’s direction. An odd pair, such as they were, but a good lot that took great pride in helping the children and even teaching them while their families were otherwise busy.

“Good,” Minfilia beamed and motioned for her to follow. “It occured to me that I had yet to receive a full account on the goings on at the Crystal Tower. I have already called upon Cid, who should be waiting for us in the solar.”

Carine nearly paused in their walk at the mention of the tower and Cid. It had been nearly a week since they had solved its mystery and left the spire that could still be seen from standing where they were. She had been far too busy and distracted by aiding the Domans that she had given little thought as to how she might break the news to Minfilia. If it weren’t for the fact that Cid was going to be in this meeting as well, she would have preferred just to save the antecedent from knowing Nero was alive and well.

And that her Warrior of Light owed him a rather large favor.

The walk to Seventh Heaven was far shorter than she would have liked, and the moment she entered the solar she could feel Cid’s grey eyes upon her. She hadn’t expected, however, that Thancred, Alphinaud, and Y’shtola would be sitting there and chatting amongst each other as well. 

“Alphinaud, would you care to take down the notes?” Minfilia asked, taking her place at her desk and picking up her own pen. No doubt it was to copy the account to her own ability as well, to make sure that no detail was missed. “So, what exactly is the tower?”

Cid was the first to answer, given that he had paid far more attention to detail than Carine had. “It was a power source from the prime of Ancient Allag,” he explained, going into more detail over the specifics. He mentioned the clones of Unei and Doga, the purpose of the tower, and even the secret that it had been lying dormant thanks to a massive spell that allowed it so. 

Both Alphinaud and Minfilia scribbled their notes as fast as they were able to capture the story as it was told. Carine knew damn well that Cid had notes he could have copied for them both, but she was too busy worried about what they would ask in her recount to be concerned with how Cid handled his. Knowing the Engineer, he had probably forgotten that little detail anyway since their return. 

“And I trust that it was successfully shut down?” Y’shtola asked from her seat. 

“Nay, not as you would think it, lass,” Cid shook his head. “G’raha Tia, an associate of the Sons of Saint Coinach and the Students of Baldesion put it back to rest until such a time that it could be reopened again. Seeing as he was most likely the only person who would have had means to open the gate, there is not a soul that can try and claim its power in this day and age.”

Minfilia tapped her pen against her lips. “So it sleeps again. Mayhap for the better. A shame, though, that so much information was lost to us.”

“Pardon my own interruption,” Thancred said. “One thing troubles me, and mayhap you can put my mind to rest, but how exactly did you come across this knowledge to open a gate to the Void?”

And this is where Cid’s gentle eyes betrayed her as they glanced in her direction. “As much as I would like to tell you, it would be better that you hear it coming from her.”

She wanted to call him a traitor, though she wouldn’t have meant it. Cid’s goals aligned with the Scions’ in that the protection of the people of Eorzea came first. While he agreed that Nero posed no real threat to them at the moment, there was always the chance that he could in the future. Seeing as his primary goal is to achieve some sort of ultimate power and be remembered in history, it was likely he would pop up again sooner or later. Cid was of a mind that the sooner the Scions knew of him, the better. 

“Carine?” Minfilia looked to the Elezen in confusion. “What does he mean? Did the Sons of Saint Coinach not have a means to find this on their own?”

Carine took a deep breath and willed herself to remain calm, cool, and collected. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of what happened in Ul’dah. “We may have had an...unexpected visitor while conquering the tower. Of the...er...Garlean variety.”

Silence followed as the Scions looked to each other and Cid looked to the floor. “Is this why you sought our soldiers?” Minfilia asked. “Were there Garleans seeking to use the tower for their own gain?”

“You aren’t  _ too _ far off,” Carine replied. “It was a single Garlean...and he was definitely seeking a way to control the tower, though he was not successful.”

“It appears that you know who this Garlean is,” Y’shtola pointed out. “Mayhap one we know as well?”

This was it. The moment she had been dreading ever since that tall glass of ego had walked right back into her life after walking away. There was no running away from the truth or skirting around it with Cid being right there beside her. Whether he really would throw her under the carriage, she didn’t know, but he had been right. It would be best that they heard it from her. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you all in the wake of the battle at Castrum Meridianum,” she began cautiously. “I wrongly allowed you all to believe that I had killed each and every Tribunus under Gaius van Baelsar’s command. The truth is, there was...one...I yet allowed to live.”

The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. Carine couldn’t bring herself to even look up at any of them in fear of what their eyes would tell her. Cid, blessed Cid, held out his hand in comfort and support, allowing her to release a shaky breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. 

Alphinaud was the first to break the silence. “I suppose there is little point in assuming it was anyone other than Nero tol Scaeva?”

She shook her head, daring to catch a glimpse of Minfilia sitting across from her. The Hyur was utterly stoic, her face an unusual blank stare as she looked upon the Warrior of Light with an unreadable expression. Carine wasn’t sure what was worse, thinking she would see disappointment and anger or this. 

“Y’shtola? Might I ask you to prepare some wards to prevent any eavesdroppers from listening in?” the antecedent asked, her voice flat and lifeless. The Miqo’te nodded and immediately set to work without another word, leaving the room in an awkward silence. Once she was done, she nodded to Minfilia and took her seat again as the Hyur pulled out another blank parchment. 

“I need the full account of what truly happened in the Praetorium,” she asked, jotting down something in the process. “I pray this time you leave nothing out.”

The short, clipped way the woman was speaking felt like pinpricks on her skin and brought about a wave of shame she hadn’t expected to feel. “Everything I told you was true,” she explained. “All of it except the part where I allowed him to go free.”

“So he did not defeat you in battle?” Minfilia raised a blonde brow. 

“No. I had the opportunity to kill him and I could not,” Carine admitted with a bow of her head. “I know it was my duty, but there had been more than enough death that day.”

No one said a word during the exchange between the two women. If anything, they seemed to shrink into the background, knowing their place was to bear witness to the truth that was just now being brought to light. 

“Do you have any idea what you may have done to our credibility?” Minfilia finally asked, anger wavering in her voice. 

“Was I supposed to kill him to keep up appearances?” Carine shot back. “He had done no wrong directly to me and was far kinder than he had any right to be. Without his ambition, however blind it was, you wouldn’t have had me to use in your fight, or have you forgotten?”

Alphinaud cleared his throat. “And need you the reminder that it was  _ he _ that rebuilt the Ultima Weapon in the first place?”

No, she didn’t. It was the discovery that he had been working on that project as long as she had known him that prompted her into finding a way to save her friends. It had been that night that she had realized that whatever had been growing between them was nothing and could be nothing. He may not have known what love was, but that alone didn’t mean he deserved to experience it. 

“Be that as it may, there is naught to do about it now,” she said with finality. “He is alive because I felt that I owed him for making what could have been the most traumatic experience in my life into something that lead me on this path. Besides, if it weren’t for that choice being made, Thancred and I would not be with you today.”

The Midlander furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“The Reaper we used to escape? Nero sent it.”

The Scions couldn’t quite contain their uniformed gasp at that. 

“And why would he do that?” Y’shtola asked. “To what end does that serve him?”

“Hells if I know,” Carine replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t quite get an answer from the man when I asked myself. The best I can figure is that he doesn’t feel like owing anyone anything, and I had just given him his life.”

“So he went to the Crystal Tower with information on how to open a rift to the World of Darkness for what? What did he gain from such a venture,” Minfilia asked, her blue eyes focused in on Carine. “If he does not like owing anyone favors, given what I know of the man, it would be easy to assume he prefers others to owe him, correct?”

Again, she wasn’t wrong. And Carine was honest in telling her so. “The tome he provided was a means to his own end, one that we kept from his grasp thankfully,” she explained with Cid’s approval. “However, he did relay some very important information to me. Information I don’t think you have in your hands that may help us in the future.”

The Elezen went into a long explanation of what Nero had told her concerning the current state of affairs in Garlemald. She told them of Varis rising to take the throne and his keen interest on raising an army to one day storm their lands again as well as his interest in those possessing of the Echo. Just as she thought, all of this was concerning news to the Scions and brand new information to them if she read their faces right. 

“Given that Nero was unsuccessful in obtaining information on how to create clones or even recreate the experiments to create them, I have every reason to doubt he returned to his emperor. Where he has disappeared to, I could not say, but I do not think he would go there,” she finished, hoping that her conviction would ease their minds.

“And I am likened to think the same,” Cid agreed. “There is nothing left for him to claim there and even if there was, Varis is likely not of a mind to consent. What his plans are for the future…” he let it trail off there with a sad shake of his head. 

Carine felt the weight of the ring hanging from her neck. The knowledge that it was there, pinpointing exactly where the Scions of the Seventh Dawn were located made her sick to her stomach. She debated on revealing it to her friends sitting within the room, but decided it would be best to speak of it to Minfilia alone. There was no need to further drive a wedge between them all. 

Almost as if reading her mind, Minfilia asked the others to leave them alone, wishing to speak to Carine in private. Obediently they went, not a one of them besides Cid giving her any reassurances as they did. When the doors closed behind them, Carine pulled the necklace from her neck and handed it over to the antecedent. 

She picked it up and examined it closely, her eyes narrowing to take in every miniscule detail. It was clear that she knew what it was, but it was also clear she misunderstood its meaning. 

“You still care for him, don’t you?” Minfilia asked, handing the ring back to her. 

“Mayhap there was a time I thought I did,” Carine replied honestly as she remembered the last kiss he had given her when she thought she was leaving him to die. “But this ring symbolizes nothing more than his desire to control me. The only reason I carry it is because I gave my word that I would owe him a favor for the information he took great risks in delivering to us.”

“Then I would be correct in assuming this still works?” the other woman asked.

“So he says.”

The blonde released a sigh as she stood from her seat and leaned over her desk. For the first time, Carine could almost see the weight of the burdens and responsibilities weighing on the antecedent’s shoulders. “Do you have any idea the position you have placed me?” she asked so softly, the Elezen wasn’t sure she had heard her correctly.

“If there is need for this to be explained…” the Warrior of Light offered, not quite sure she did understand.

“If the Eorzean Alliance discovered that you allowed the man you were married to go free and that we had knowledge…”

“But you didn’t have knowledge. Not until now. My decision was mine own and I am more than capable of accepting the responsibilities of my actions,” Carine interrupted. If there was to be a trial, she would gladly admit to all of Eorzea of what she had done. There was no need for the Scions to have any hand in something she had decided upon herself. The lie was her own, not theirs. 

Minfilia shook her head. “You are, by extension, our hand. To choose to save one person that could potentially end the lives of many puts me in a precarious situation because I condoned your actions by allowing you the choice,” she explained. “To make matters worse, your outburst in Ul’dah will, no doubt, contribute to this added stress.”

“How do you mean?”

“At best, you will be seen as a Garlean sympathizer. You have openly praised their practices, even suggested that we implement them ourselves,” she held up a finger to keep the Elezen from interrupting. “It matters not that you wished to simply use them as basic guide, it matters that you  _ supported _ it. 

“At worst, some may come to question your very loyalty to our cause and people. If the people have any reason to believe that you loved Nero enough to save his life that day, they would find every reason to believe you might still harbor those feelings and be feeding him information that could compromise our efforts in establishing independence.”

“A bit eccentric, you think? Given that we now know to prepare for an invasion,” Carine pointed out. 

“Which would label you as some form of double agent.”

“Well...shit,” Carine cursed, pulling the necklace back over her head. 

This was a shit show she hadn’t remotely been prepared for. The guilt that she had put this on Minfilia’s shoulders weighed heavily in her stomach, threatening to make her sick. She had backed the woman into a corner surrounded by nothing but rocks and hard places to try and find her way out. At this point, for the Scions’ credibility and current standing with the Alliance, Minfilia  _ couldn’t _ reveal that Nero was alive, not without putting Carine up on a chopping block. No matter her many successes, this was likely not something that she could get out of without serious repercussions. 

“Glad am I to see you finally understand the gravity of the situation,” the antecedent stated. 

“How do we fix it?”

“That I don’t know. You are free to go for now. Pray, send in the others so that I might discuss our options further. You have given me much to ponder.”

 

Carine pushed past the doors, her face a mix of anger and hurt and guilt as she rounded on the Scions sitting outside the solar. Alphinaud found it difficult to look her in the eyes, given now that they knew the truth. He didn’t believe that she had any good will towards the Garleans despite her current actions and he certainly didn’t believe that this had been her intended outcome, but he didn’t appreciate the corner they had been put in. 

Minfilia appeared to feel the same way.

“If anyone is open to suggestions as to how we might put this in our favor, I am all ears,” the Hyur said, sinking into her chair and holding her face in her hands. Thancred, ever attentive of her since his return, took his place at her side and rubbed her shoulders, easing her burden the only way the man knew how. Y’shtola pursed her lips together, her white, fluffy tail swishing with her train of thought. 

Alphinaud was the only one with any real possible direction, given that he never stopping thinking of a way for them to stay ahead of the curve. 

“What if,” he began, pacing to and fro in front of the great wooden desk in the near center of the room. “Now, hear me out, what if we did not bring this to the attention of the Eorzean Alliance just yet? I am not saying to hide it from them forever, but just long enough for Carine to prove her worthiness and loyalty to them over Garlemald?”

“And just how, pray tell, will she be able to do that?” Y’shtola asked. “We have put her in the face of danger time and time again, asked her to make sacrifice after sacrifice for their very lives. What else could she do to prove she is on our side?”

The young Elezen tapped his chin in thought. “Nero told her of the Empire’s possible future plans. That is every reason to take these claims seriously if we are to be prepared. Whereas they have limitless resources and soldiers at their disposal, we do not,” he explained, his pacing beginning again. “But there is yet hope. As you well know, you have charged me with speaking on your behalf with those of Ishgard.”

“Of course,” Minfilia nodded and urged him to go on. 

“Unfortunately they are a suspicious lot and I have made little headway in gaining access to speak to the Holy See directly. As it is, the only contact I have thus far is with Lord Haurchefant Greystone of House Fortemps,” he obliged. “While it isn’t nearly enough to gain favor to bring Ishgard into the Eorzean Alliance, I consider this relationship we are establishing as putting my foot in the door.

“The lord has expressed great and growing interest in our Warrior of Light, and seeing as he has a solid connection to one of the four High Houses of Ishgard, mayhap if we indulged him, there would be word sent to his count.”

The Hyur raised a brow at that, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. It was the first light of hope that he had seen from her since his mention of moving their primary base of operations to Revenant’s Toll, and it pleased him greatly to know he had put it there once again.

“I still fail to see how establishing a relationship with Ishgard will save Carine from the wrath of the Alliance should they discover her dishonesty,” Y’shtola folded her hands in her lap as she looked between them.

“Of course that wouldn’t simply be enough,” Alphinaud agreed. “But should she find a way forge an alliance with the Holy See and Eorzea, one that many believe to be an impossibility, it may yet serve our cause and prove whose side she is truly on.”

This was all pure speculation at this point, but he felt it was the best option available to them at the present. If anything, this would give the leaders pause before demanding anything of the Scions or the Warrior of Light, especially if it were made known that they had done this in preparation for another attack. 

“Alas, though I find hope in your plan, I fear that she is not capable of diplomacy,” Minfilia shook her head sadly. “Ul’dah was undeniable proof that her emotions yet rule her judgement.”

“‘Tis true,” the Elezen agreed. “Allow the diplomacy to me and allow them to use her as they see fit to gain their trust. At the very least, we gain a few more allies to call upon in the face of danger.”

“And Carine to be as far away from here as possible,” Minfilia added. When everyone looked to her in question, she smiled gently. “She brought it to my attention that she owes Nero a favor and yet carries the ring he used to track her with from before.”

Alphinaud took a step back in surprise, hardly believing his ears. “She would expose our location to the Garleans? For how long has she held this keepsake?”

The Hyur shook her head. “It was only just returned to her. I have no reason to believe she has held onto it for this long, however she does not wish to relinquish it. This puts us in a dangerous situation, one you may have found a way to avoid.”

“So you would approve of us traveling to Ishgard?” Alphinaud asked. 

“I would. If your Braves are of a mind to continue with operations without your guidance, then I would leave you tasked with helping to forge an alliance with Ishgard.”

The young Elezen bowed and beamed, pleased to have once again provided an alternative that none other could think of. “I shall entrust the running of the Crystal Braves to Ilberd, my second in command. If anyone could see my vision for our future, it would be him.”


	8. Warm Hearths and Warmer Welcomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“And if you happen to get cold, you know where my room is."_
> 
> Carine has a much needed moment with her mother and later meets the wonderfully eccentric Lord Haurchefant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of this piece seems familiar to you, it's because I adapted scenes from my "Holding On..." series that was meant to showcase Carine and Haurchefant's relationship. You might recognize a few things, other things might be new, but it is still all my work even if pulled from other pieces I wrote ^^
> 
> AND THIS IS THE PART OF THE ARC I HAVE BEEN LIVING FOR!! MUAHAHAHAHA! Let the insanity of this wonderful man and this silly WoL ensue!!! (While still remaining entirely serious because, let's face it, Carine is facing some tough political shit right now)

Carine was throwing her clothes and belongings across the room to a half opened bag sitting upon her bed when Elaine tentatively knocked on the door. With the arrival of the Doman refugees, Elaine had chosen to stay to assist them in any way she could. It had warmed her heart to see her daughter helping those that needed her hope and light and every day Carine had woken to give them the best she had to offer. 

But ever since she had watched her storm out of the meeting with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, she knew that something big had happened. 

“Darling? Might I come in?” she asked, carefully cracking the door. 

The small room that housed the Warrior was a complete and utter disaster. Clothes were strung all over the floor and the bed, boots were scattered from their mate and parchment and books were piled haphazardly on the desk and chairs. A single, large candle glowed, its wax dripping onto what Elaine hoped wasn’t some important correspondence. Otherwise, the wall lights provided the illuminating glow that allowed her to see the mess and avoid stepping on anything that would otherwise trip her.

Her daughter was standing at the foot of her bed, hands running through her hair before she spun and sat at the edge. Carine buried her face in her hands, silver hair falling as a curtain to hide her face from her mother. 

Wordlessly, Elaine began to pick up shirts and breeches, folding them neatly in her hands and setting them on top of the large, feathered mattress. She noticed that everything the girl was packing had a warm lining of wool within it, or was made more warmly that even what the cooler climate of Mor Dhona dictated be worn. 

“Where are they sending you this time?” The proof was evident enough given the distress Carine was in. 

“Coerthas.”

Elaine managed to resist the urge to sigh, choosing instead to sit beside her daughter and take her hand. So she wasn’t upset because she was going someplace far away, not when Mor Dhona’s borders aligned with Coerthas. “Might I ask what has you in such a fit then?”

The one person Carine would never raise her voice to or lash out in anger was her mother, and Elaine knew it. Rarely did she ever choose to be quite so frank with her beloved daughter, but there were times it was required. 

“You mean aside from being sent to a frozen wasteland to learn how to be a proper diplomat?” Carine sniffed, peeking out from behind her hair to look at her. 

“Aside from the obvious, yes,” Elaine smiled. She tucked her daughter’s silvery hair behind her ear and then opted to braid it instead, turning her just so to make the effort easier. 

“I think there is only so much disappointment and anger I can take in one day,” she sighed, shoulders falling and head hanging. It was enough to give the older woman pause, but only for a moment before threading her fingers through the wavy locks to pull out each tangle. 

“No matter what it is you have done, darling, I can promise I will love you no less.”

It took several moments before Carine would speak to her, no doubt trying to find a way to lessen the sting of whatever story she was about to tell. Elaine had little doubt that she was going to tell her anything she didn’t already know, but waited patiently in silence while braiding her hair. 

“I didn’t kill Nero that night.” Her voice was so small, reminiscent of the days when she was but a young girl caught in the act of lying. She didn’t have to see her face to know that tears glistened her eyes in both her shame and her sadness. “I-I wasn’t strong enough.”

Elaine took the time to finish her braid, tying it off at the end halfway down her daughter’s back before standing up and seeking the bag she had brought with her. She dug through the endless maze of pockets and random trinkets she carried - from a traveling sewing set to the flower comb that she had given to Violaine - searching for yet another keepsake. 

Carine turned, eyeing her mother and then the bag with apprehension. Finally, the older Elezen found what she had been looking for and pulled it from her satchel and then placed it in her daughter’s hands. Her purple eyes looked down upon it with curiosity and then astonishment, her ears and cheeks glowing red in embarrassment as she unfolded the golden cloth. 

“Where did you find this?”

Her mother gave a knowing smile. “When they found you and brought you in to be healed, I came to assist in any way possible. At the time you were badly burned and they needed assistance in removing your clothes from your body,” she explained, looking down at the cloth in her hands. “I found this tucked in your shirt. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you were holding onto it or who it came from, and I feared if anyone knew that you had let him live, there would have been a witch hunt.”

Carine’s eyes lit up in shock as her mouth popped open. “Mama! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have been in if they found this?! Why have you been carrying it with you?”

“Easy now, darling. I’m old, not stupid,” she assured her. “No one had any reason to believe that you didn’t do as you said you would and thus had no reason to believe I knew any differently.”

“But why didn’t you say something?”

She cupped her daughter’s face in her hands and kissed her brow with all the love she could give. “You carry a burden far heavier than any of us could imagine. That I could hide your secret was the least I could do,” she told her. “Besides, I knew you would tell me when you were ready or you had to. There was little doubt in my mind the two of you would stay away from each other forever.”

“Only because the pompous ass needs me and my power for his own ends,” Carine grumbled.

“Mayhap so,” Elaine chuckled. “I take it that he has made an appearance though? ‘Tis why you are telling me now, is it not?”

Carine nodded, letting out another heavy sigh before pulling a necklace from her neck and placing it in her mother’s hands. Elaine recognized the silver and black band at once, echoing her daughter’s thoughts with her own sigh. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe he has any ill intent towards me. Why? I don’t know. He has every reason to wish me dead.”

Elaine wasn’t so quick to agree with her on that point. She did not know how things were left between the two of them, but she had a strong memory of the way they had been when they had visited her right before everything changed. Carine hadn’t seen the way Nero had looked at her, but she had. It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t solely lust either. She found it difficult to believe that the Garlean wished her daughter dead based on that alone. 

“So why are you going to Coerthas?” she asked, changing the subject. 

Carine spent the next half a bell filling her in on everything that had been developing in the recent week. She admitted to her ill-timed tantrum in Ul’dah and the position Minfilia was now in that lead to her going with Alphinaud safely away from their base of operations.

“Should we be successful, there is a small chance that all can be forgiven in time,” she finished up. “You lived in Ishgard, mayhap you can tell me how well received we will be?”

Elaine shook her head sadly as she took her daughter’s hands in her own. “I will not lie to you, darling. Ishgard is not known for its warm hospitality. There are times I believe the eternal winter cast there was a punishment by the Twelve for the way they treat their own and others.”

“But there is hope, yes? I mean, aren’t the Monteil’s a noble family?” she asked. 

“They are, but I was disowned and you were born on foreign soil. You may look Ishgardian, but they will always see you as an outsider,” she spoke plainly, not wishing to give her false hopes. “And you will not find shelter with the Monteil’s, if that is also what you are asking. I was disowned, cast out, and most likely written from my family’s history for what I did.”

“I made sure to tell them,” Carine replied. “We can’t get into Ishgard anyway.”

“Then where, pray tell, are you to be staying in Coerthas? An outlying territory it may be, that does not mean they are welcoming to all travelers that seek solace there.”

“Some place called Camp Dragonhead. Lord...Horshfant? Orshfone? I don’t know, honestly I thought they had said Lord Horse Farts before I made them repeat it,” Carine giggled. “Anyway, he’s some knight from the High House of Fortemps.”

Elaine raised a greying brow at that, immediately recognizing the name and let out a breath of relief. “I knew Edmont when I was but a girl. He was a good and honorable man, only a few years older than I,” she said, thinking back on her youth. “If House Fortemps is aiding you, then I believe you to be in good hands.”

“Good enough to get us into Ishgard?” Carine grinned. 

“Mayhap,” she smiled back. She stood up and put her hands on her hips and gave her daughter a stern look. “If you are to be going to Ishgard, you are going to need clothes much warmer than these. Come now, let us head to the market and see what is available to us.

 

***

 

She was glad that she had taken her mother up for shopping. The winds of Coerthas were far colder than she expected; their harsh bites licking at their skin through the thick clothes and cloaks they had chosen to wear while Carine and Alphinaud traveled by Chocobo. Buck, her ever trusty companion, ‘kwehed eagerly in the face of the oncoming blizzard, ruffling his seafog blue feathers and taking the lead though he had not a clue as to where they were going. 

Alphinaud was the one with the map, but the poor lad was too busy shaking in his own skin to read it properly. From her years of traveling between the city-states and the various towns between, Carine knew well enough that if you followed the road, it was bound to lead you somewhere eventually. 

They reached the gates of the Observatorium just as the first gust of snow-laden wind whipped at their cloaks. Desperate to seek shelter from the oncoming storm, Carine was eager to greet the two knights that stood guard outside its gates. The moment they saw the travelers, they blocked their path, using their lances to keep them from going any further.

“Halt! State your business,” one of them commanded, not at all bothered by the heavy clouds rolling overhead or the ice pinging into his armor.

“W-we come from R-r-evenant’s Toll,” Alphinaud hailed, his teeth chattering in the sudden drop in temperature. 

The guards looked to one another but did not budge from their position. 

“Might we seek shelter from the storm?” Carine asked, pulling her cloak tightly about her. “‘Twould only be until it has passed.”

Again, they looked to each other, but this time they shook their heads. “We do not have the authority to allow foreigners within the walls of the Observatorium. Wherever you are heading, that is where you should seek shelter.”

Carine’s mouth dropped in open disbelief, not sure if she were comprehending their words clearly through the howling of the wind. “Pardon? Not even for just one evening?” she asked again. “As you can see…”

“We lack the authority to allow you within our gates. Please, be on your way.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously and her palms itched to grasp the bow at her back. “Do you have any idea  _ who I am? _ ” she growled, resolve crumbling. 

Alphinaud took her hand in his own before she could teach the guards a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget, calming her and allowing her a moment to think. “W-would it be too much t-trouble to tell us where C-c-amp Dragonh-head is?” he asked, his small frame practically vibrating under his skin. 

One of the guards shrugged and pointed out on the map where they should go as well as pointed them in the right direction. Naturally, the road they needed to take was clear on the other side of the bloody settlement they were being locked out of, and of course the guards wouldn’t even allow them to travel the short distance between the gates as ‘they didn’t have the authority to do so’, as they  _ loved _ to remind her.

Alphinaud thanked them kindly, even offering them a handful of gil for their troubles, and practically dragged Carine behind him as they walked along the edge of the walls. 

“I could have made them take us through, you know,” she muttered, cursing as Buck tripped in the thickening drifts of snow. 

“First l-lesson of diplomacy,” Alphinaud stated, rolling up his map and tucking it into his cloak. “Don’t use f-force for everything.”

Carine rolled her eyes and muttered a string of insults that soon were lost in the wind that pulled at their cloaks and snapped at their skin.

White stretched out as far as they could see, obscuring the barren trees that stood like frozen skeletons just off the path they followed. Harsh, biting winds carrying icy shards sliced across exposed cheeks, spilling tears from their eyes that froze to their lashes as the blizzard grew in size and strength. It howled through the desolate landscape, piling the snow into drifts against the trees and the grey rock faces that could faintly be seen. The curious cold crept under Carine’s clothes, licking at her flesh and sending her body into a fit of tremors as she pulled her cloak around her tighter. Her breath fogged out before her, a haunting reminder that with each exhale she was losing precious warmth. 

“S-shouldn’t be m-much f-farther,” Alphinaud said, the young Elezen’s teeth chattering uncontrollably as he hugged himself. They had long since lost the map that was supposed to act as their guide to Camp Dragonhead, the blizzard having claimed it for its own. The road that Carine had opted to follow was barely visible now, even to her attentive gaze. 

Even the Chocobos were finding the inclement weather troubling, spooking at shadows that weren’t there. Their paranoia seemed to wear on the Warrior of Light, as she was almost positive she had seen the familiar, black cloak of an Ascian following them just along the treeline. She knew that couldn’t be so, given that Lahabrea had been defeated and no other signs of the others had been reported, much to her dismay. 

She ignored the feeling of eyes upon her when dark walls appeared through the thick fog of white just up ahead in the distance. Great columns of stone and ice reached towards the sky and disappeared into the churning clouds that were spitting snow. Alphinaud was far too busy attempting to stay warm, so Carine grabbed hold of his Chocobo’s bridle and kicked Buck into gear, urging the blue male into a sprint that allowed him to stretch his long, powerful legs. Her face could no longer feel the sharp bite of the wind, or the tears leaking from her eyes and freezing along her face, and she was quite sure if she were to bend one of the long pointed tips of her ears it would shatter into a thousand pieces. Still she pushed her companion on until they skittered to a stop just outside the closed gates.

“State your business, adventurer,” one of the guards ordered, blocking their path. Carine opened her mouth, ready to lay into this guard that seemed intent on keeping her from the precious warmth she knew was blazing within the stony buildings just on the other side of the gate, but Alphinaud interrupted with his eloquent words broken by the incessant chattering of his teeth.

“W-we are here on-on behalf of th-the Scions of the S-seventh D-dawn.”

Carine waited impatiently while the guards spoke with the freezing boy, apparently completely unaware there was a  _ bloody blizzard _ threatening to remove him of his fingers and toes while they dallied around. If it weren’t for them not being able to understand the young Elezen through his tremors, then it was because they couldn’t hear him over the godsdamned wind that drowned out his boyish voice.

“Oh! The Scions of the Seventh Dawn, you say? Why yes, Lord Haurchefant has been expecting you,” one of the guards finally managed to make sense of what poor Alphinaud had been trying to say for the past several minutes.

“About bloody time you took the cotton from your ears,” Carine hissed as she dismounted from Buck, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain that laced up her frozen limbs from the impact. “Mayhap you would have heard him more clearly if you offered up just an onze of  _ warm hospitality, _ yes?”

If the guards had anything to say about her sharp tongue it was lost on the wind as they lead the two of them towards the Chocobo stables just within the walls of Camp Dragonhead. Stable hands rushed out to meet them, eagerly taking their mounts and leading them to the comforting warmth of the building where others of their kind were roosting.

Thankfully the wooden doors that promised them shelter were not far from the gate. Carine wasted no time marching up the steps to the double doors that were accented by the royal Ishgardian blue flags and pushing them open to be welcomed by the precious warmth from within. She ignored the people that had stopped what they were doing to look at her, focusing more on the blazing fireplace to the left of the wide room and unceremoniously making her way there to thaw her frozen limbs. The Warrior of Light barely acknowledged the large table in the center of the room, or the tall Elezen with silvery blue hair smiling towards her as she stomped with single-minded determination, shedding her gloves and rubbing her fingers close to the flickering flames. 

“Ah! New guests! Welcome to Camp Dragonhead, my friends!” the Elezen exclaimed with an excitement that turned Carine’s head. For the first time since arriving to Coerthas, she could feel the warmth radiating from a single person whose smile was wide and genuine at their presence. She realized then that this godsforsaken place had nearly turned her as cold as the people that lived here and her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she turned to greet him as a proper guest. 

“My apologies-” she began, dipping her head low. 

“No need for that! You chose quite the day to journey through Coerthas. Even we dare not travel during these snowstorms. Come, continue warming yourself by my hearth and allow me to put something together to warm you further,” the lord said, quickly disappearing through a side door to the left of them.

“I would presume that is Lord Haurchefant,” Alphinaud stated as he warmed himself beside Carine. “Would it kill you to perhaps not be quite so...forward with your displeasure?”

She ignored him, humming to herself instead as the warmth from the fire thawed each finger and snaked its way up her arms. She didn’t care who the man was so long as he was willing to allow them warm themselves at his hearth. 

Once the pinpricks of warmth subsided from her skin, Carine was finally able to take stock of the welcoming hall they had come into. There was a single, large table at one end with a tall, red cushioned seat affixed to the middle. A large, wooden shield painted black with a red unicorn’s head upon it hung over the table, bordered by two tapestries that beheld Ishgardian colors. 

Despite this being property of one of the High Houses of Ishgard, there was no grand display of wealth featured here. It was comfortable, yes, with two grand fireplaces on each side and a wide stairway that lead to the next floor, but there were no crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling or expensive rugs to save their feet from the cold, stony floor. It served simply to function; the main floor being wide enough that groups of five knights were working out in each corner, surprisingly shirtless. 

When she was caught staring, one of the instructors narrowed his eyes at her frowned. “Do not question our ways,  _ unbeliever. _ ”

Well,  _ that _ was one way to make her want to question them. Who in their right mind peeled off their shirt in the middle of a blizzard to do push-ups for any passerby to see? And how could she  _ not _ stare at their finely toned bodies when they seemed most eager to show them off? Carine looked to Alphinaud, wondering just what sort of place this was only to be answered by a meager shrug of his tiny shoulders. 

Before she could ask him aloud, the Elezen they believed to be Lord Haurchefant returned with three large, steaming mugs that he generously passed to each of them, keeping one for himself. Carine thanked him, as did Alphinaud before taking a delicate sip of the hot liquid. She nearly moaned aloud as the warmth caressed her tongue, soaking it in the rich, creamy taste of the best hot cocoa she had ever had in her life. The Warrior could feel the heat seemingly radiating from within, spreading through her body and warming her from the inside out and chasing away the last of her shivers. Her eyes closed as she relished in the taste, her tongue lapping at her lips in case she wasted one precious drop of the sweet elixir. 

When her eyes opened, she found the lord watched her intently, his sharp eyes focused on her lips as he swallowed in what seemed to be appreciation. Immediately she stopped, ears burning from embarrassment as she set the mug down at her feet and turned away, allowing her silver hair to act as a curtain to hide her face. Was it common for a man to look at a woman so brazenly around here? They certainly weren’t this way back in Gridania, at least...never towards her.

The Elezen cleared his throat, “Allow me to welcome you to Camp Dragonhead. I am Lord Haurchefant Greystone of House Fortemps.”

“Glad are we that you have extended your generous hospitality towards our cause,” Alphinaud replied, giving the lord a bow. “I am Alphinaud Leveilleur on behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. With me is Carine Monteil, or as you would better know her, the Warrior of Light.”

Haurchefant’s gaze lit up immediately at mention of her title and eagerly took her hand within his own. “ _ The _ Warrior of Light? As in the Eikon Slayer and Savior of Eorzea?” 

Carine giggled, accepting the generous kiss he placed upon her extended hand. “I see my reputation precedes me.” Oddly she found herself more at ease with this version of the lord before her than the one that had been staring at her with lusty eyes as he watched her drink his cocoa.

Haurchefant eventually relinquished her hand, the feeling of his lips still lingering upon it as she placed it back in her lap. “But of course we have heard of your tales even here. We may not receive many adventurers, but those that have passed through our gates have told us of your many exploits down south,” he told her, his face practically like that of a child’s during the Starlight Celebration. “How many Primals have you lain low? Five? Six?”

“I am sure they exaggerate on the details,” she waved her hand. 

“But of course! It would please me greatly to hear of your adventures straight from the Chocobo’s beak, as it were.”

“Ahem,” Alphinaud cleared his throat, sending the Warrior of Light an icy glare before turning his attention to their host. “There will be time enough for the exchange of stories, for now I would like to discuss the plan of action for allowing us to contact the Holy See of Ishgard. It is a matter of grave importance.”

Haurchefant’s cheerful face soon fell, his eyes faltering as the younger Elezen dove straight into business. Rather than the eager man waiting to hear her war stories, there was a Knight of Ishgard sitting before her. The change was so sudden, it made her head spin. “It shan’t be easy, my friend. And you will need much more than mine or House Fortemps support to see you through the Gates of Judgement.”

“As I expected,” Alphinaud nodded, pleased to be at the center of the lord’s attention. “Truth be told, I did not bring Carine here simply to entertain you, but to be put to work by you and your country men. Think of it as a token of good faith that we would lend you our greatest warrior.”

He arched a silvery blue brow and glanced towards Carine. She wasn’t entirely sure if she liked the way his eyes lingered upon her, almost hungrily before they turned back to Alphinaud. “It would be a start, but I cannot say that it would be a means to your end. Life in Coerthas since the Calamity has been harsh. Our people were cold before eternal winter set upon us, but the ice has frozen most of their hearts. I fear any help you may wish to give will be turned away to save their pride.”

“What do you suggest we do then, Lord Haurchefant?” Carine asked. She was no stranger to inflated pride and ego, given that she had been married to a man with the largest she had seen to date. In fact, she welcomed the challenge.

He thought for a moment, his long fingers rubbing against the tip of his aquiline nose in the process. “Mayhap there is a way to see you through the gates sooner,” he finally said, though the firm line of his mouth let her know it would be no easy task.

“Whatever it is, I am sure we can overcome it.”

“One High House endorsing you would not be enough to grant you an audience with the archbishop,” he began, his gaze holding onto Carine’s though it was Alphinaud that was eager to be told. “But  _ two _ High Houses would put you in his sights.”

“And how do you suggest we persuade any of the other High Houses to endorse us?” Alphinaud asked. “I wrote to them all and only you offered any form of clear support.”

Haurchefant laughed. “But of  _ course _ I did! You will find House Fortemps is not quite as cold as our brethren,” he told them. “What I am going to suggest will not be an easy task, nor will it grant you any favors in Ishgard at all should you fail. Even I might find myself in grave trouble for even having suggested it in the first place.”

Carine shook her head, quickly stopping him before he could go any further. The last thing she wanted was more people in trouble because of her. It was bad enough Minfilia was having to figure out a way to keep the Alliance from discovering her lie. “I would rather you didn’t do anything that would cause you trouble just for our cause. If there is another way, we will find it.”

“Nay, you mistake me, pretty lady,” he smiled warmly in reassurance. “This is a path I am already destined to be on, whether you provide help or not. You see, a good friend of mine has been accused of some rather nasty rumors. Are you aware of our war against the Dravanians?”

She knew precious little of it, as it wasn’t a subject her mother spoke about. Apparently leaving Ishgard behind had left behind a host of other problems that she would rather not push upon her children. If only she had been more forthcoming in that information. 

“It matters not,” Haurchefant waved his hand as if brushing it away. “All that you need to know is that we have been fighting the dragons for nigh a thousand years. Naturally there would be people that would grow sympathetic to the beasts, aligning themselves with the devilish wyrms and their kith and kin. My friend has been accused of such heresy as of late. To what end, I do not know, but someone wishes to see House Haillenarte fall.”

“So you would ask us to aid you in proving them innocent?” Carine asked. 

The Elezen lord nodded solemnly. “If it can even be done. I have been spending the last several weeks in search of clues that would prove someone is planting these draconic rosaries in shipments bound for his home, but alas, my investigations have been for naught. Mayhap with the presence of the Warrior of Light, it might prompt whoever is doing this into making a fatal mistake.”

“It was to my understanding that there was a due process in which Ishgardian custom follows,” Alphinaud interjected, holding his chin in his hand. “Wouldn’t your case be better made to an inquisitor?”

“Usually it would, but Inquisitor Guillaume has hardly been helpful. It is by his decree that Lord Francel has been forced into staying within his home in the Skyfire Locks under constant Temple Knight supervision whilst he completes his investigation,” Haurchefant replied. “While I cannot directly contend with his word, I can seek the truth myself and provide any counter argument I wish to make before his trial.”

A sticky predicament, but one Carine or Alphinaud could ill afford, given the timeline Nero had given them before the Empire would attack. If they were to convince Ishgard to join the Alliance, they would have to take risks. However, neither of them were eager to get caught up in a whole new set of politics that they did not know very well. Though Alphinaud was born Sharlayan, a great city located within the borders of Ishgardian territories, he had been young when they had abandoned the city due to the fighting, hardly making him fit to play their games. And though Carine’s mother was Ishgardian born, her knowledge was likely not to help them in this endeavor. 

A show of force and being used as a tool was something Carine excelled at. Playing the dangerous mind games associated with politics was not.

“Pray, allow us to think about this proposal tonight. I fear our journey may have frozen our minds,” the younger Elezen yawned and then quickly apologized. 

Carine nodded in agreement. Now that she was warm, her body demanded that she rest and recover from nearly freezing to death in the harsh, Coerthan winter. “Lord Haurchefant? Is there an inn nearby in which we might lodge ourselves?”

The lord before her looked absolutely stricken at the suggestion, shaking his head and holding up his hands to stop them. “Perish the thought that such esteemed guests would pay for a room! You shall stay here within my home. I have plenty of space and can provide you with all you desire, including warm baths,” he insisted, motioning to one of the servants nearby and relaying the information to them. 

Carine looked to Alphinaud, giving him a slight shake of her head to warn him to  _ not _ turn down this generous display of hospitality. If he ruined her chances at having a warm bath, she would personally string the lad up by his long ears.

“We would be most grateful, thank you,” the young Elezen bowed, shooting the Warrior of Light a smirk. 

Haurchefant summoned them all to follow him up the flight of stairs to a second level within the keep. He pointed out various rooms of importance along the way and introduced them to several servants that seemed more than eager to help them with anything they would need. It was a stark contrast to the guards they had met just outside the Observatorium, and one that was more than welcome after the day they had.

Despite the strange glances, meaningful smiles, and occasional ‘accidental’ brushes against her, Carine found herself quite fond of the enthusiastic lord. He was, by far, the most friendly person she had ever met, even outside of Coerthas. His light, sing-song voice always held a note of cheer and excitement as he asked about their journeys to compare to the stories he had heard from other adventurers that had passed through. It seemed that the lord was quite interested in the world beyond the white wasteland of Coerthas, and as interesting as he found Alphinaud’s assessments of their travels, he was far more eager to hear of the world through the eyes of the Warrior of Light.

“Master Alphinaud, allow me to welcome you to your room. Closest to our archives so that you may study our history as you see fit as well as brush up on Ishgardian customs should you choose,” the lord opened a wooden door to a small room complete with a warm bed just large enough for the teen. A small fireplace was already burning bright and heating the room, providing a decent amount of light for him to see by. Even if it was not, there were several candles and lanterns he would make good use of. 

“I beg your pardon and forgiveness if the two of you had wished to share a room,” Haurchefant went on. “I assumed that your lovely traveling companion would prefer the privacy of her own quarters.”

Alphinaud laughed nervously, his cheeks tinged pink as he avoided the lord’s gaze. “Ah, yes, well, privacy is preferred. Thank you for the consideration.”

With Alphinaud sorted, that left Carine alone with the lord. She became hyper-aware of his every move then, now that she didn’t have her friend to serve as a distraction in case he got a little too touchy. She wasn’t used to this sort of attention. Ever since the treaty with the Garleans had been broken, the men in her life had been sparse. Those she was close enough to know were people she worked alongside and could not see as anything more than a friend or compatriot. Those that she met on her travels seemed to think her damaged goods, being a bride of the Empire and all. 

They never spoke this concern aloud, of course, but Carine was not so blind that she could not see that her advances were met with discomfort. It mattered not that what they knew of her was that she had risen against the Empire and her husband, it only matter that she had been married to one of the tinheads. That meant that she had bedded one. 

Hells, even the attention she had received from Nero was nothing compared to what she was nearly being lavished with now. He had been calculating, seductive, using her as a means to an end. Lord Haurchefant was ecstatic and charming in a completely different way. He didn’t just look upon her like a man looked upon his most prized possession, he  _ admired _ her. 

And she had to admit, the feeling was pretty fucking nice.

“Ah yes! Now for your own quarters,” he exclaimed, opening another wooden door further down the hall from where Alphinaud was staying. Carine peered into the room, finding it to be much larger than the other, complete with paintings of far off places on the walls, stacks of books in chairs, a bed that looked as though it had been slept in…

“Er, this seems...cozy,” she said, hoping not to seem rude. Haurchefant looked up from his bow and gave out a hearty laugh before pulling on her arm to lead her out. “My mistake, my friend! It appears I stopped a room too short. This one happens to be mine,” he explained as he lead her to the next door. Something told her that he hadn’t made that mistake on accident, but she followed him along anyway to the room beside his own which was still just as roomy and cozy, but far less lived in. 

“Thank you, Lord Haurchefant. I pray I am able to help your friend,” she bowed, offering him a gentle smile as she straightened herself out. She would show Alphinaud she was capable of diplomacy and lady-like behavior yet.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he bowed in turn, taking her hand and placing a lingering kiss there. “And if you happen to get cold, you know where my room is,” he added with a wink and a fiendish grin that proved he definitely had not made a mistake earlier.

As he left her with his strange proposition hanging in the air, Carine found herself wondering just what Alphinaud and the Scions had signed her up for and whether or not she should be grateful or cautious around this Lord Haurchefant Greystone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snigger snigger - Horse Farts*


	9. Hardened Warrior, Delicate Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training with Lord Haurchefant goes exactly as you would expect and Carine gets to meet Inquisitor Guillaime for the first time.

The sun rose in the sky, it’s bright rays blinding over the fields of snow as it chased away the thick fog of clouds that had brought the fresh blanket from the day before. Ice glittered in the morning light, refracting it in fantastical displays, bringing Carine to shield her eyes as she examined the courtyard where several Fortemps knights were already hard at work with their training schedule. The clanging of their steel swords reverberated off the stony facades that surrounded them, their shouts ringing out in the cold air that had caught Carine’s interest from the moment she woke. 

Her fingers itched to join them in their training, but there was still a discussion to be had on whether or not the Warrior of Light would assist Lord Haurchefant with his friend. She went to Alphinaud’s room, thinking he would be waiting for her there, only to find it empty. Then she made her way to the archives where she was certain he would be buried up to his ears in books and scrolls. As it was, the young lord wasn’t there either. She retraced her steps from the night before, trying to remember every twist and turn in the keep and where Alphinaud might have possibly gone, but was met with little success in finding him. 

With her bow strapped to her back, she turned herself around for a bit of personal training.

Just as she had suspected, the training yard was full of seemingly well seasoned knights. Dressed in their Fortemps armor, they had paired up along the eastern wall to face off. Most of them seemed to prefer sword and shield; an excellent choice when it came to slaying their fated foes she expected, not that she knew much about fighting dragons. It also happened that a good many also used lances, which was a welcome relief because Carine didn’t have the first clue about how to properly practice with a sword or a shield. 

The Warrior of Light grabbed one of the blunt lances, testing its weight through a series of spins. With most of Coerthas populated by Elezens, it was pleasant to find a spear that was a near match for her size without having to hunt them down. Pleased with the way it handled, she made her way to the striking dummies that were left mostly abandoned, save for the few archers using them for target practice. 

Carine took her time warming up, slowly stretching her muscles to relax despite the cold that tried to creep up her bones. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, swung her arms and hopped a little in place to get the blood flowing. A high whistle caught her attention, dragging her gaze from the striking dummies before her to the battlements above to see Lord Haurchefant waving enthusiastically at her with Alphinaud at his side. 

She was still unsure of how she felt about the eccentric lord. He was pleasantly warm in his personality, all smiles and enthusiasm, but the way he had left things between them the night before weighed on her. Mayhap she was being too quick to judge and had simply misunderstood his intentions, but every fiber of her being seemed to know he meant it  _ exactly _ as he presented it. Still, she found it hard to dislike him. His smile was infectious and he had this odd charm about him that made her want to keep this strange attention he was giving her. 

_ There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun, is there? Is it so bad to flirt back? _ She wondered to herself as she shot him a wicked smile and bowed to touch her toes. It may have been against her better judgement, now that Haurchefant’s eyes were hyper-focused upon her, but she also couldn’t deny the thrill that raced up her spine as she pulled her bow from her back and took aim. A few quick nocks here, a couple leaping shots there, and the cold that had been trying to wrap around her soon faded. She could feel the lord’s gaze upon her, watching her every move as she finished her quiver full of arrows, each one landing precisely where she had intended. 

Feeling every bit the woman she did before being Drafted, Carine stopped and gave a low bow, flashing Haurchefant a dazzling smile. She could see Alphinaud tug at the taller man and whisper something to him that made his eyes light up in a way she wasn’t sure she liked. Her brow furrowed and smile faded as Haurchefant whistled out to his men training below, making a motion she didn’t understand until it was nearly too late. 

Carine barely had time to dodge the first blow from a dull practice blade, rolling backwards and grabbing the lance she had laid down earlier. Two more knights charged at her with blades above their heads, both easily knocked down with a sweeping blow. The first knight was smarter, hiding behind his shield and keeping his eyes trained on her every movement as she stood and swung the spear in hand. She took a chance and looked up at Haurchefant, who was practically watering at the mouth as he leaned over the edge of the battlement to watch. 

_ You give a man an ilm and he will take a malm, _ she thought to herself with a smirk. He was testing her, forcing her to prove her mettle. From everything she had heard from the night before, she knew him to be quite the fan of her work, but this showed he wasn’t just an overzealous fan. He was smart to make her demonstrate her skills and she was more than happy to oblige.

Since the knights currently attacking her were all brandished with training weapons, Carine’s gaze darted around to see what she could use to fend off each attacker. While she was busy assessing the situation and trying to count her opponents, more of them had gathered around her, waiting for their opportunity to strike. The Elezen in front of her was the first to break, charging fast with his shield. She pivoted at the last moment, tripping him up with her weapon before blocking several blows from the knights to her side. She didn’t like being outnumbered, but she needed the practice and the experience. One never knew when they would have to face multiple enemies at once.

With every strike against her, she was able to block and dodge. Any time her lance landed upon an opponent, they fell back as though they had been wounded. She kept that in mind, careful to not actually injure the men that were just playing a part of their lord’s game. As a line of three men charged her, Carine used the spear to vault herself over them, turning to swing at them as she landed until each fell back. One last opponent behind her thought he could rush her with his shield, but she was able to jab him in the side and leg, sending him to the ground. She steadied her breathing and looked back up to the battlements where Haurchefant had been only to find Alphinaud standing there alone with a boyish smirk on his face. 

“Looking for me?” a light, cheery voice called out from behind her. Carine turned to see that Haurchefant had pulled on his chainmail and strapped a House Fortemps shield to his arm. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I simply could not wait another second while watching you-”

Carine cut him off effectively before he could finish his statement by swinging her spear towards him. Haurchefant easily blocked the blow, eyes widening a bit in mock horror that she would dare strike him before he was ready. 

“Did you come here to fight or flirt?” she asked, arching a silver brow in his direction. 

“My dear, how could a man choose?” He lunged, surprising her with his swiftness as he charged with his shield raised. Carine ducked to the side and swept out with her lance only to find that the lord had been paying attention, bringing his sword down to block the blow that would have sent him to the ground. The Warrior of Light backed away, keeping her face to his to watch for any tell of his next move. 

 

Haurchefant had ever been a man to take a fight seriously. Despite choosing to face down this goddess of a woman, he had no intention of allowing her to get the best of him. She had done beautifully against some of his best men. Watching her perform with his knights had beckoned him to join the fray and witness her skill first hand. 

And by the Fury, was she a sight to behold!

Even now, after several minutes of fighting, she was standing strong and firm, cautiously watching him with her large, purple eyes. Her long, silver hair was falling out of the braid that hung down her back and her tongue was darting over her lush bottom lip in concentration. He was so captivated by her raw strength and athletic beauty that he was ill-prepared to block the attack she launched against him with the spear she used as an extension of her arm. He parried, barely blocking the dull tip before adjusting himself to face her again. 

“Distracted, Lord Haurchefant?” The devilish woman was now  _ biting _ that lower lip, bringing a distressed groan from his own. 

So smart, so strong, so  _ sexy. _

“And pray tell, who wouldn’t be distracted by you? How the light floats about you like a halo, those cunning eyes, charming smile, rippling muscles? Why, you are practically living art!” he replied, rolling the shoulder he had used to block earlier to loosen it up. Her eyes widened just a bit, mouth forming a small ‘o’. It seemed he was not the only one prone to distraction, and he used this to his advantage. He charged at her, feigning to the left and reaching for her open side. By some miracle, most likely from her training, she twisted impossibly to use the spear and block, but the blow shattered the wood in the process. 

 

Carine rolled out of the way, now weaponless and searching for something to put her back at the advantage. A sharp pain in her side let her know just how foolish she had been to twist that way and block, but she could hardly afford to let it slow her now. Haurchefant didn’t seem eager to lose either for he advanced towards her with a look of triumph etched upon his strong, sharp features. She grabbed one of the fallen shields that was lying in the muck and held it over her just in time to stop his sword from coming down on her. Then, playing dirty, she kicked up one long leg, frightening the man enough to be put off balance. Using that leg, she wrapped it behind his knee and pulled, sending the knight sprawling to the ground. 

Without the added weight of full armor or a shield strapped to her arm, Carine was able to scurry up quickly and sit upon his chest, using her knees to pin him down while pulling a small, hidden blade from her boot to bring to his neck. “Do you yield?”

Haurchefant beamed up at her, his light blue eyes twinkling with an intensity that threatened to unsettle her as he relaxed his arms. “If I say no, does that mean you will continue sitting on me?”

Any other woman might find his brazen flirting unbearable, but somehow she couldn’t help but smile down at him in amusement. Carine decided she quite liked him. “If I let you up, will you behave yourself?”

Haurchefant replied with a wicked grin that sent thrills up her spine. “My dear, I  _ never _ behave myself and I fear the longer we stay like this, the more likely I am  _ not _ to behave.”

Carine rolled her eyes before standing to allow the Elezen to his feet, offering him her hand to help him along the way. The Warrior of Light did like him, but she didn’t quite like him  _ that _ much. As from the night before, Haurchefant bowed and kissed her hand, offering up a teasing smile before brushing off the mud and muck from his armor. She found that in her rolling around she had also become quite dirty, her hair caked with only Hydaelyn knew what. 

“A pleasure training with you, Lord Haurchefant. Now, if you will excuse me, it seems a bath is in order,” she bowed her head.

“Ah yes, I daresay a bath is certainly in order. Shall I send my servants to prepare one for you? Or would you prefer to just share in mine?”

Carine could only stare at him in open-mouthed disbelief and burning cheeks as he signaled to one of his servants, telling them to have a bath prepared for her as well as some fresh clothes. Everything about the man was opposite of his countrymen, and while she found him to be most amusing and friendly and kind, she couldn’t say exactly how she felt about his open advances. This Elezen even put Thancred to shame and that was quite the achievement as far as the Warrior of Light was concerned. 

She was acutely aware of his eyes watching her as she made her way back into the keep and towards the warm bath that would soon be awaiting her, all the while wondering just how much of this flirting was an act and how much was genuine.

 

***

 

It was midday when Carine met with Haurchefant and Alphinaud in one of the studies to discuss their plan of action. She knew long before she was summoned that the young diplomat would accept the terms the lord had set out the night before given that they had few other options to try. 

Upon her arrival, she found the two of them leaning over a desk with a stack of parchments and scrolls that made her head swim. No doubt that was everything Alphinaud had found concerning the laws of Ishgard and no doubt he would ask that she read and  _ try _ to abide by those laws. The only comfort she found was the steaming mug of hot chocolate that Lord Haurchefant handed to her once she joined them around the table. 

Well, that and the gentle smile that seemed a permanent fixture on his face. 

“So, fill me in. What are we looking at as far as a timeline?” Carine asked, her eyes flitting from paper to paper. 

“Francel’s trial is at the end of the week. That was all the time Inquisitor Guillaime allowed me to contend his case with proof that he is innocent,” Haurchefant replied. “The sooner, the better for this gives the Inquisitor time to continue to mount evidence against him as well.”

“A week? How long did it take for them to get enough evidence that he’s aligned with these...dragons?” Carine balked at the idea. She didn’t know enough to feel confident that was enough time, but given that Haurchefant seemed sure that someone wanted to ruin the Haillenarte name, it seemed that time wasn’t on their side. 

“Alas, I do not know. There have been accusations towards the Haillenartes since they abandoned the Steel Vigil and then later lost the Stone Vigil to the dravanians. I hardly believe the last one is fair, seeing as it happened in the wake of the Calamity. I doubt any of the other High Houses could have done better, mine own included,” Haurchefant clenched his jaw. 

“Who would wish to see House Haillenarte fall?” Alphinaud asked. “To question or investigate those that wish them harm would be our best bet at finding a lead.”

Haurchefant shook his head. “‘Tis the thing. There are none, at least none that have made their dissent known.”

“Then we should speak with Francel. Mayhap he knows something we do not?” Carine offered. 

“Would that you could, my friend, but he is under strict arrest within his own home. Visitors are kept to precious few,” the Elezen lord replied, his eyes falling and the last traces of his smile fading. It was easy to see just how much this venture meant to him, and to see such a vibrant person fading with the knowledge they might not be able to save their friend tugged at Carine’s heart. 

She reached out and placed her hand on his in reassurance and comfort. “We will find a way to help Francel,” she promised. “If you have any pull on getting us to him so that we may speak with him privately…”

“Thank you,” Haurchefant smiled warmly, his gaze resting upon her hand on his. “And mayhap there is a way…”

The sudden change in the way he looked at her made her pull her hand back quickly. She swallowed hard as his gaze swept slowly up and down her body, almost as if he were committing her every curve to memory. 

Alphinaud seemed wholly unaffected as he continued to read the script on the page in front of him. Either he was willfully blind to the fact this lord was practically undressing her with his eyes or he was oblivious to it all, leaving Carine to figure out a way to deal with it on her own. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and glared at the man, daring him to look her over one more time. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” she arched a brow. 

He smiled, his eyes moving straight to hers as if he hadn’t just been staring her down like the lusty lord he was under all that armor and charm. 

“Just your measurements, my dear.”

 

***

 

The Warrior of Light had never been so embarrassed in her life. While she certainly felt she had reason to watch the way Lord Haurchefant eyed her, she hadn’t expected him to do it for their benefit. As it turned out, he was  _ exceptionally _ well at guessing her size and finding an armor set that would fit her within his hold.

His plan was to bring her along as one of his personal knights during his visit with Francel the next day. Being that they have been great friends for several years, Lord Haurchefant was one of the few people still allowed to come and visit and keep the other man company. On the way from Camp Dragonhead to the Skyfire Locks, he told her about how they had met when they were still boys. 

From the way he described it, they had been quite the opposite pair. Haurchefant was ever the outgoing individual while Francel tended to remain quiet and out of sight from others. He was gentle and kind, but above all he was a loyal man to Ishgard from a long line of loyal men. This only made Carine question exactly  _ how _ the two of them met. She knew that Greystone was the surname given to bastard children in Ishgard, and she only knew that because her mother had told her so. How the son of nobility came to be close friends with a bastard remained a mystery to her. 

Carine didn’t have the chance to ask the question heavy on her mind as they approached the hold. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as Camp Dragonhead, being more of a homestead than a keep itself. Rather than having an open courtyard, there was a stony-stepped entrance guarded by two knights dressed in the armor of the Holy See of Ishgard.

“This is not your usual accompanying knight,” one of them noted as they gave Carine one look over. 

“Did you not receive my letter?” Haurchefant put his hand to his chest. “I  _ must _ have words with my errand boy. He and that stable girl are-” 

The knight cut him off with a polite cough just when Carine was about to step on his foot to get him back on track. 

“Oh, right. Yes, well Ser Corentiaux is quite ill after the storm last night. Alas, the poor lad woke up to a rattling cough,” he grinned sheepishly. “So I have asked Carine to accompany me today in his stead, if that is quite alright with you?”

There was no further debate as the Temple Knights allowed them into the building. Servants loyal to House Haillenarte immediately approached, taking their weapons and helping to dust the snow from their boots before they were ushered into a side room from the main foyer. Unlike Camp Dragonhead, Carine could easily see the wealth and pride the Haillenartes had, given the rich carpets upon the floor and detailed tapestries that hung from the walls. A great painting of men with roses upon their shields fighting dragons hung in a golden frame above the mantle of a single grand fireplace that adequately heated the entire room.

Haurchefant clearly felt at home here as he draped himself on one of the couches in the smaller room and removed his gloves. She longed to do the same, but her role was to be his guard, and so she remained upright at his side wearing a bloody helmet that was giving her a proper headache the longer it pressed her long ears to her scalp. Thankfully they didn’t have long to wait before who she assumed was Lord Francel into the room. 

The poor man looked as though he had seen better days. Despite being dressed in rich green silks accented in gold and a grand feathered cap, his eyes were cast low and his lips in a well worn pout as he was lead in by another Temple Knight. Upon seeing Haurchefant, Francel seemed to light up as a small smile curled his lips. 

“You’re late,” he said, his voice gentle and sweet despite the accusation of his words. 

“Better to be late than not arrive at all,” Haurchefant smiled back. “How are you holding up?”

Francel looked behind his back at the knight that seemed to refuse to put him out of his sight and smiled. “‘Tis only my dearest friend. Go, wait outside the door.”

Reluctantly he did as he was told, giving both men a long, hard stare before doing so. Carine wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to glare. The room they were in had one door and no windows meaning there was minimal chances of escape. The fire was blazing strong in the hearth, so that wouldn’t make a likely escape route, not any time soon that was. 

Once he was gone, Francel was able to relax. He chose to slump down into a plush, green chair and rub his temples with his fingers. “‘Tis utterly maddening,” he said. “I know you wish to help, Haurchefant, but another week of this would be torture.”

“Fear not, my friend. Mayhap I have found a solution,” Haurchefant’s blue eyes practically glittered as he turned to face Carine, motioning for her to take off her helmet. 

Glad to be out of that stuffy tincap, she shook her long hair out and took a deep breath of fresh air before smiling at Lord Francel. The blond seemed a bit taken aback and more than confused as he cast his green eyes towards his friend in question. It was almost comforting to know that she wasn’t readily recognized in the north. Alphinaud had guessed this would be to their advantage for a short time, and she was beginning to believe it so given how easy it had been for her to come this far without being questioned. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Francel de Haillenarte,” she bowed.

“Pardon my rudeness, but I haven’t the faintest idea who you are,” he replied honestly, still looking to the other Elezen for answers. 

“I would like you to meet my newest friend. This is Carine Monteil and she has offered to lend us a hand in proving your innocence. You might know her better as the Warrior of Light.”

The younger lord’s eyes lit up in shock, hardly able to decide if they wished to look at Haurchefant as though he were mad or at her in disbelief. “I-I don’t understand...You went to get the Warrior of Light to help prove me innocent?!”

Carine couldn’t help but giggle at his astonishment or the way he seemed to believe that Haurchefant would do such a thing. “Alas, it was nothing so grand as that,” she assured him. “We only just arrived yesterday in hopes of gaining enough favor to award us an audience with the archbishop. Lord Haurchefant has been more than accommodating, however, he has warned us his word alone would not grant us any favors. ‘Tis our belief that if we help clear your name, you might be willing to help us as well.”

_ Ha! Too bad Alphinaud isn’t here to bear witness to my diplomacy! _ Carine smiled smugly to herself.

Lord Francel, however, was not convinced. 

“Oh no,” he shook his head and stood from his chair. “Do you have any idea what you are doing, Haurchefant? What the Temple Knights might do to  _ her _ if they find out you brought in a foreigner to deal with my problems? By the Fury, are you  _ daft? _ ”

Carine’s smile faded from her lips. This hadn’t been the reaction she had been expecting. Most people were thrilled to have the Warrior of Light on their side, not terrified or even angered at the thought of it like he appeared to be. 

“Of course not,” Haurchefant carelessly waved his hand. “I have used every resource available to me to aid you. Would it not be wise for me to use another willing body to aid your cause as well?”

“Not when that other willing body is the Warrior of Light!”

She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I am standing right here, you know?”

“Apologies, my lady. I do not mean to seem put off by your wish to help, however I must decline your generous offer. The ways of Ishgard are not like those-”

“‘Tis not my favor you are turning down, Lord Francel,” she reminded him, mayhap a bit  _ too _ firmly. “Lord Haurchefant is clearly taking a risk he deems necessary to help a dear friend. Are you so eager to accept defeat that you would turn down his very last option and condemn him to lose you?”

The blond Elezen’s shoulders slumped as he took a seat again, hiding his face in his hands. “Even though this will likely put you at risk?” he asked, peeking at her through his fingers. 

“I wake up at risk,” she grinned, hoping to reassure him. “At this point I simply have to ask ‘what will it be today?’”

“And is this not something beneath an Eikon Slayer?”

“Of course not. My goal is to establish an alliance with Ishgard. For that to be possible, I need the favor and friendship, mayhap even loyalty, of the High Houses. If helping you enables us to start that relationship, then why wouldn’t I be obliged to lend you my bow?” she asked. 

He released a heavy sigh and looked between the two of them again. “I take it there is naught I can do to sway you in this endeavor?” They both shook their heads in unison. Carine needed the connection and Haurchefant longed to help his most cherished friend. “Then I suppose I should submit and leave my fate in your capable hands.”

“That’s the spirit!” Haurchefant’s relief was released in a warm buoyant laugh. Carine couldn’t help but to smile in its presence. His optimism was infectious, his hope endearing, giving Francel faith while encouraging Carine that this was the best path for them to take. 

“Lord Francel,” she began, taking a seat next to Haurchefant and leaning forward to maintain eye contact. “I am here to see if you know who might wish to strike a blow against your House. If there is anything you can give us as a place to start…”

He was just about to open his mouth when there came a commotion from outside the door. Before she could think to don her helmet and resume her stance at Haurchefant’s flank, the wooden door was flung open and an Elezen dressed in the royal blue of Ishgard stormed in. He was a hair taller than Carine with raven black hair that was swept to one side and pale yellow eyes. His face was pulled into an indignant frown as he looked between the three of them, his thin lips pressed into an even thinner line.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in on Carine. “Who are you and what, pray tell, are you doing in the home of an accused heretic?”

Her mouth opened and closed, words flitting just to the tip of her tongue where they disappeared, leaving her speechless. The Warrior of Light was clearly out of her element, feeling like a child whose hands were caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Ah, Inquisitor Guillaime! ‘Tis a pleasure to see you again!” Haurchefant came to the rescue, standing up and offering the man a deep bow. “I trust that Coerthas has been to your liking? I know it lacks the aristocracy of Foundation-”

“I’ve no time for your pretty words, Lord Haurchefant,” Inquisitor Guillaime snapped. “I was informed you brought a guest unknown to my Temple Knights, disguised as one of your own. You are in direct violation of the law.”

The lord seemed hardly phased by the words being thrown at him, merely smiling the entire time as though the Inquisitor was half mad. “Pardon the deception, my lord,” he said, stepping to the side to show Carine to the man. “I have but recently hired her. I can attest I have never bore witness to a finer fighter. I simply  _ had _ to add her to my ranks, you see.”

Inquisitor Guillaime looked her over again, his gaze not quite buying the story that Haurchefant was giving. Fortunately for her, he didn’t have the evidence to prove otherwise, at least not at the moment. “If you think seeking help from beyond our borders will save your friend, rest assured it will not,” he said, giving Haurchefant his full attention before turning to Carine. “I shall be watching you. Pray, keep to yourself and out of Ishgardian affairs.”

With that, the Inquisitor turned in a flurry of heavy, winter coats and motioned to his knights to retrieve Francel. She tried her best to give him an encouraging look, but the poor man was stricken as he was pulled away and out of sight. Carine and Haurchefant were given no warm treatment themselves as they were forced to march back into the snow. The wooden doors to the Skyfire Locks were slammed behind them, barring them from reentry. 

“That went rather well,” Haurchefant said as he looked behind them. “I think we have a fair shot at this.”

Carine couldn’t help but look at him skeptically. “Oh yes, but of course it did. Why, I think the Inquisitor is quite fond of me already!”

Haurchefant looked down at her, giving her that warm smile that seemed to melt the cold right off her very skin in its presence. “Let’s see that he doesn’t become  _ too _ fond of you, shall we? It might turn out most unpleasant for him.” He then extended his arm for her to take and lead her towards the stables where their Chocobos were resting. 


	10. The Question Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You could repay me with a kiss?”_
> 
>  
> 
> What's a girl to do when she hates everything about where she is? Why, drink some late night hot cocoa with an impish Elezen of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! There's a little fluff. Dawww <3

That night, Carine decided she hated Coerthas. 

She had plenty of reasons for her hatred, the utmost being that it was unbearably cold. Ice seemed to hang on every surface, snow stayed on the ground all day, Hells, even the sun could barely penetrate the freezing air to warm her skin. It was also bleak and lifeless. Other than the people that milled about Camp Dragonhead or the caravans that went back and forth between the settlements, it seemed like there was little else out there in the wilderness. The trees, save the evergreens, were nothing more than barren, bark skeletons without a leaf to hang upon their branches. Birds didn’t seem to fly overhead other than the occasional raven with news, and she found herself wondering just what they hunted out here for food. 

To top it off, the people were just as cold and lifeless as their homeland. It didn’t matter if she smiled all day long and offered to help people with even the most menial task, she was met with icy glares and cold shoulders and otherwise ignored. 

It was a far cry from the life she left behind in Gridania. 

She missed the tall trees that blotted out the sun and cast wonderful, dancing shadows in the breeze. She missed the babbling brooks that beckoned to her to dip her toes into after a long day of hunting. She missed the whisper of the wind through the tall blades of grass beneath her and the leaves above. She missed the people and their smiling faces, the children that played in the stream, the way everyone waved as they passed by.

Carine missed  _ home. _

Her fingers idly pulled at the necklace around her neck. How was it that she always managed to find her as far away from home as possible?

With a heavy sigh, she sat up from her bed and searched for her harp in the dim light provided by her fireplace. If it weren’t such a late hour, she would have happily sat by her fire and played to her heart’s content, but Haurchefant had enough troubles of his own for her to add lack of sleep to the mix with her singing. Besides, the kitchens were likely to hold something strong enough to bring sleep to her, if she were lucky. 

Once down in the main hall, she found the fireplace there running on smouldering embers. Carefully and quietly she added several more logs so that the servants within the keep wouldn’t have to work quite so hard in a few hours to get it going again. Pleased that the fire was going strong, Carine went to the kitchens to see if there were any spirits available to warm her soul. She wasn’t so lucky, however, so she settled for a cup of water from melted snow. 

She perched herself on one of the benches closest to the fire and began to pluck the strings of the harp her mother had given her after the defeat of the Garleans, tuning it as needed. Its delicate, gentle, calming sounds immediately soothed her, bringing the sense of home right to where she was sitting. It had been too long since she had played or even sang, but the acoustics within the stony walls were surprisingly good, inviting her to continue.

Music had always helped ease her troubled mind. Putting her worries into words and singing them out was like pushing the weight of the world off her shoulders. It was therapy, a chance to empty one’s mind and give in to the beauty of sound. It had brought her comfort when she had been trapped in a tower just as it was bringing her comfort now. Her eyes closed as her long fingers gently plucked the strings in a gentle cascade of music that reverberated off the walls and surrounded her in soothing tones that pulled the worry and anxiety and homesickness from her mind. 

 

She was so lost in the music that she never noticed she held a captivated audience in the shadows. Haurchefant was leaned against the wall, his eyes closed as he let the soft sounds of her song wrap around him in a gentle embrace. She stood so tall and strong and fierce, her head always held high any time he dared to sneak a look in her direction, yet her song carried sadness and longing. It was an intimate, vulnerable moment for her, one that made him ashamed of himself for following when she had quietly snuck from her room. Though he felt he was betraying her privacy, he found himself unable to move from his place, longing to listen to her voice for as long as she chose to sing. 

As the last notes faded and silence fell upon the hall again, Haurchefant clapped his hands, startling the poor woman to death as she leapt from her bench and turned to face him. Her eyes were wide with fright, her lips parted as she placed a hand over her chest to steady her breathing as she recognized him. The halo of tousled silver fell wildly about her head while the soft glow of the fire beside her illuminated her into the very picture of beauty in his eyes. As thrilling as her tales, as impressive as her skills were, Carine was still very much a person like him and he admired her all the more for it.

“You have a lovely voice,” he said gently, restraining himself from looking upon her too eagerly. He found himself thankful for procuring her a large, woolen robe, not that she left it tied. Beneath, it appeared whatever she was wearing would leave very little to his imagination.

“T-thank you,” she stuttered her response, avoiding his gaze as she wrapped the robe tightly around her figure. “I pray I didn’t wake you. I can sometimes get carried away.”

Was she  _ blushing? _ The thought of it brought a smile to his face as he walked and took a seat beside her. “If you had woken me, it would have been worth it just to hear you sing. Do you perform often?”

Carine shook her head sadly, tucking a strand of hair behind her long ears. “No, not anymore. Being some sort of fated hero tends to do that to a person, I hear.”

“A shame that this talent cannot be shared with all. Glad am I to have listened when I did,” he smiled. She mirrored him, and though the lighting was dim, the Elezen lord was sure he could see the tips of her ears burning bright from his compliment. 

“Well glad am I that you enjoyed it. I fear it isn’t one of my better performances, I have much better songs that make more sense and are much more fun.” She sat back on her bench and leaned against the table, stretching out her long legs towards the fireplace. 

He seemed to consider her for a few moments before turning around. “Would you care for some hot cocoa?” he asked. Carine nodded, glad to have someone around that could make the delicious drink that seemed almost a staple within this household. As he turned to leave the room, she found herself following him to the kitchen where he went to work at once as though he were well versed in making the drink. She found it odd that, as a man with servants, he knew his way around the kitchen as though he worked them his entire life. 

“So, Mistress Monteil, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, you seem to know quite a lot about me already. I am not sure there is anything I could tell you that you do not already know or suspect,” she replied as she watched him heat the cream and cut the chocolate. 

“I am not asking about the Warrior of Light, I am fully aware of her adventures and accomplishments. I am asking about Carine Monteil, the woman under the armor,” he paused a moment and smirked to himself as if he had caught a joke that she had missed. “I want to know about  _ you. _ ”

“Why?” The word had left her lips before she could think to take it back. It was rare that anyone asked about who she was. Far more often people were concerned with  _ what _ she was and how they could use her. Even the Scions, as helpful and friendly as she found them, seemed more preoccupied in using her to their advantage than asking about the personal details that defined her. They knew she could fight, they knew she loved her family, and now they knew she wasn’t some mindless killing machine they could turn on their enemies, given how the whole Nero thing worked out. 

Which brought on a whole new problem. She found herself unsure on if she should divulge in who she is lest she tell the wrong person something that could be used against her. The Scions had already gone to great lengths to make it appear as though she had been their spy from the start so as to sever all connections to the Garleans. Now they were having to find a way to cover up the fact that Nero was still alive because she thought better than to kill him. 

“Why, there is a woman under the title, is there not? I suspect you were not always the Warrior of Light.”

His genuine curiosity and gentle nature of asking softened her. At the very least, he had been kind and open-minded thus far in welcoming her and Alphinaud into his home despite the risks associated. Hells, he hadn’t even blamed her or become angry that she hadn’t been able to ask Francel the most important questions earlier that day. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to tell him everything he might possibly want to know. 

“Alright, ask me what you will,” she shrugged and leaned back. “Can’t promise I will answer everything.”

Haurchefant considered this as he stirred the hot cocoa, taking his time to think of whatever outlandish question she was sure was swimming around in that head of silvery-blue hair. “Let’s make a game of it,” he finally said, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes. “I can ask you a question, and then you have the opportunity to ask me one. ‘Tis only fair we get to know each other. After all, you are a guest staying within my home.”

It wasn’t a bad idea and she couldn’t deny she had her own curiosities about him. “Okay, but when we play a game, it has to have rules.”

“Very well. First rule, repeated questions do not count as a counter question,” he suggested, taking the very words from her mouth.

Carine grinned at him and nodded. “Agreed. Rule two, answer all questions honestly or to the best of your knowledge. If you don’t want to answer or know you will tell a falsehood, then you can pass.”

“‘Tis fair. Rule number three, passed questions may be asked later?” 

She mulled it over and decided it was a decent suggestion so she agreed to it. “As long as the issue is not pressed, I will agree. Rule four, we can play this game whenever, wherever, but we have to say something like ‘question’ before the actual question. Sort of like a code word that lets us know we are in the game?”

“Ah, so question,” he smiled, removing the cocoa from the heat. He dipped a ladle into the steaming pot and poured her a full mug. “Do you really like my cocoa?”

Carine brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the sweet scents of creamy chocolate. She gently blew on the hot liquid, trying her best to cool it so it wouldn’t burn her tongue before taking a small sip. Like the first time she had tasted the precious elixir, she licked her lips in satisfaction and nodded in contentment. “I had always thought myself more of a tea and coffee kind of girl, but this? The best thing I have ever tasted in drink form.”

Her praise absolutely thrilled the man as he beamed triumphantly and poured himself a stein. “Glad am I to hear it, my friend,” he said, taking a seat next to her on the bench and stretching his legs out beside hers to warm himself. 

“Question; where did you learn to make it and can I have the recipe?” she asked, taking another drink. 

“My mother taught me to make it when I was young,” he replied, eyes watching the flames dancing in the hearth. “And ‘tis a secret family recipe. One I keep guarded close to my heart.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but pressed no further in case it really  _ was _ a secret family recipe. Nophica knew her mother apparently had a few herself stashed away that she passed on to Violaine. Carine, though she could season and cook meat, she wasn’t so good at everything else in the kitchen. “Your turn.”

“Question; where are you from?”

“I was born and raised in Gridania, but my mother came from Foundation,” she took another drink from her cup and wondered if he would ask further. She would hate to use a pass to avoid speaking of Violaine so soon, but she wasn’t sure if she was quite able knowing that her sister was still out there being held prisoner by some prince of a Garlean. 

Haurchefant raised a brow and nodded. “I thought I recognized the name. There is a small noble house by way of Monteil, but I wasn’t aware they had any heirs.”

“Yeah, well, they did disown her once they discovered her relationship with a lowborn from the Brume,” Carine recited, remembering her mother’s words. “She was pregnant with me when they forced her out of the house. My father hadn’t a gil to his name, but he dropped everything to take her someplace where they could be together without living on the streets.”

“‘Tis the way of Ishgard I fear, though not all families disown their children for being bastards,” he replied, his attention turned back to the fire. There was something in the way he watched the flames that made her wonder what his story was. She knew that Greystone was the name given to bastards in Ishgard, yet another hardship that Elaine had thought to save her children from, but that didn’t give her much to go on other than he was illegitimate.

She was about to ask him who his family was, maybe even his mother, but even then she remembered him turning away at the mention of her. “Question, and try not to think me rude, but how exactly does a bastard rise to knighthood anyway?” She finally allowed herself to ask, feeling it might be the best way to get a hint as to who he was. 

“A knight lives to serve and aid others,” he stated, eyes lighting up and a smile twitching at his lips. “I was but a boy of seventeen when I happened upon poor Francel surrounded by bandits. I could hardly let the boy fall to their blades, so I grabbed one myself and fought them off. Took at arrow in the arm for him too. I was recognized for my bravery and some skill. I still had much training to do to be where I am today.”

“You didn’t mention that earlier,” Carine pointed out. It made sense though. As eccentric and proud a man as he was, Haurchefant seemed humble above all else. He was warm and welcoming, eager to hear about everyone else’s lives and adventures than to retell his own. 

He shrugged and drained the last of his cup before pouring him another. “‘Twould have come up sooner or later. Now, my turn…”

They traded questions one after the other as the night wore on. He asked of her travels and she would tell him of her favorite places to visit. She asked him of his childhood and what he wanted to be. Not surprisingly, he had always wanted to be a knight despite his low birth, and glad was she that he had achieved that goal. 

“Question,” she asked, finishing her second cup of cocoa. “If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

She had thought it would have been an easy answer, but Haurchefant considered it far deeper than she would have guessed. “Honestly? There are too many places to choose. I have heard that Doma is beautiful. Apparently there are places where flower petals fall like snow in the spring and blanket the ground, but then the way you have described Gridania with its towering trees and babbling brooks, how could I not wish to visit there?” he shook his head. “But I suppose if there is one place I have always longed to see, ‘twould be Costa del Sol. I have heard the sand is white as snow yet soft and warm. Adventurers have told me the water is such a clear blue you can see the fish swimming in the reef. I’d love to spend even just one night in one of those chalets that are erected right over the water and fall asleep to the sound of the waves lapping at the shore.”

Carine found herself captivated by his description and lost in the way he seemed to romanticize it. This was a man that had been forced into living a life behind closed borders in service to a war that none seemed to remember who started. All he wanted was to see the world and experience it through his own eyes, even just for one night. 

“Mayhap one day I can bring you with me?” she offered. “I’ve been everywhere in the three city-states of Eorzea. I can’t claim to want to go to Doma though. From what I hear, ‘tis not a great place for tourism,” she frowned. “But I do know Gridania and I do know La Noscea. Even Thanalan has rare and beautiful sights I could show you.”

“Would that I could take you up on that, Carine,” he smiled warmly. “But alas, my duty is to Ishgard and her well being. So long as the scalekin fly, I shall endeavor to slay them before they can me.”

She supposed she could understand the dedication. It was something she herself had come to terms with. There would be no more returning to her old life in Gridania as far as she knew. Even if she found herself no longer needed as the Warrior of Light, she had plans to find a way into Garlemald and rescue Violaine if she had to. 

“Question; do you have someone waiting for you back home? Someone...special?” Haurchefant asked, breaking her train of thought. 

“Pft, how did I know  _ that _ question was going to come up?” she rolled her eyes and turned her face back towards the hearth in hopes it would hide the creeping blush in her cheeks. 

“A simple curiosity, my dear!” he chuckled, nudging her with his elbow. “Besides, I have a rather soft spot for lovers torn apart in the face of war. I can just imagine you going into battle, fighting to one day see your love again. Why, even I would blush at the thought of such a joyous reunion!”

If Carine hadn’t been red before, she was certainly red now and the dim light coming from the hearth wasn’t likely to mask it. Of all the things this eccentric lord could be, a hopeless romantic wasn’t something that had immediately come to mind. Somehow it seemed to fit him and his zealous personality and it was rather endearing, truth be told. 

“I fear my time as the Warrior of Light keeps me from seeking companionship,” she replied, carefully choosing her words so as not to lie. 

“Oh come now! Surely there is someone to which you trust to hold you after a long day?”

“That’s two questions,” she pointed out as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

Haurchefant held up a hand in defeat. “If you do not wish to answer, then simply say pass and I will gladly let it go.”

There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he meant it too, yet she found the word hanging just on the tip of her tongue. Her mind drifted back to that tower where she had lived with Nero and remembered the comfort his touches had brought when she had faced Ifrit, or the way he had consoled her when she had discovered that the Scions had been taken. There was merit to what Haurchefant was asking her, which is why it was so incredibly disappointing when people couldn’t see her past being a former bride of Garlemald. 

“Tell me, Haurchefant, what do you know of the Garlean occupation that was in Eorzea until last year?”

His brows raised and he let out a long breath as he ran his hands through the mess of silvery-blue hair on his head. “Enough to know it wasn’t pretty and enough to know you were involved in the demise of the XIVth legion,” he said, listing each thing with a finger. “I knew about the marriage treaty and the Draft.”

“Then I suppose you have heard the rumors of me?” she gave him a sidelong glance.

“There were...a few,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But nothing I would readily believe unless I heard them from you.”

Gradually she relaxed herself, leaning forward and uncrossing her arms only to tangle her fingers together. The last thing she wanted was to run him off or have him start treating her like she was some fragile thing he needed to be cautious around lest she break. On the other hand, she didn’t want to find herself in a position where she could find herself becoming too comfortable with him and then him discovering the truth. She liked him, she liked what they were doing now. The thought that he might change his opinion of her gave her pause.

“I was Drafted,” she admitted, feeling that weight fall off her shoulders. “I was Drafted and married off to Gaius van Baelsar’s second in command. I lived with him for nearly 8 months before I figured a way out of the castrum.”

Carine didn’t give all the details, Haurchefant seemed to know enough to fill in the blanks, but she told him enough that he wouldn’t question her honesty. He had gone quiet, carefully listening to her words and opting to remain that way even after she had finished. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, wanted to know what was going on in that mind of his, but rather she waited with bated breath until he was ready to speak.

“Question; I noticed yesterday in the training yard that you actively avoided the swords and shields, favoring your lance in hand to hand combat,” Haurchefant started, the change of topic nearly unsettling her from her very seat. “Have you had  _ any _ training with a sword and shield?”

She blinked at him in surprise, not quite sure if she should answer him or force them to turn around so she could understand how he felt about her being Drafted. “Er, no? None of the Scions use sword and shield as far as I am aware. I thought we were…”

Haurchefant put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “You can tell me more about it when you’re ready, but I won’t force it from you now. Besides, it appears the Warrior of Light is in need of a trainer. Might I offer you my services?” he waggled his brow at her with a smirk. 

There was never a man that she admired more than the one sitting right here before her. Carine was of half a mind to throw herself into what she knew would be a warm embrace, but that seemed hardly appropriate. Besides, the way he was looking at her now wondered what this lord had in store for her should she take him up on this offer. “What’s the catch?”

Haurchefant seemed to take this into consideration as he became quiet to think on it. “You could repay me with a kiss?”

Had there been anything left in Carine’s mug, she surely would have spilt it on herself at his request. It was all she could to to keep the wooden stein from clattering to the ground while her ears and face burned red. Mayhap she had walked into that one, or asked for it, but who thinks of a bloody kiss as a payment for sword training?

Apparently a certain Elezen lord that wore an impish smile as he gouged her reaction. 

_ Two can play at this game, _ she thought to herself as she took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Very well, Lord Haurchefant. I accept this deal. Should I pay you before or after my training?”

If the question about the kiss had surprised Carine, then poor Haurchefant was struck by lightning when she agreed to it. His bright blue eyes widened and she was almost sure that his heart had stopped within his chest at seeing her meaningful smirk. The moment their eyes met, he seemed to find himself once again and a generous smile spread over his features. “‘Tis your decision, my friend.”

Ever the gentleman in disguise, this Lord Haurchefant. Carine grinned, fluttering her eyes in a playful manner as she leaned in slowly. Her fingers traced against his smooth cheek and his entire body tensed, ready for the gift he was surely to receive. She watched as he licked his lips nervously, suddenly seeming far more innocent than even she in this moment before he began to lean in her direction. 

She brushed her nose against his cheek and whispered, “I’ll pay you in full once I feel I have received satisfactory training under your expertise. The better the training, the better the kiss, deal?”

As Carine pulled herself back, she could see the burning flush in his cheeks and ears as he blinked in surprise. His hand went to his face where her fingers had been as if he could still feel them there. The Warrior of Light held out her hand which he took and gave a firm shake. 

“We have a deal.”

It wasn’t long after this exchange that they retired to their rooms, half the night already past from their endless questions and answers. As Carine snuggled into her bed, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she didn’t hate everything about Coerthas after all. 

Not when it came with the likes of Haurchefant Greystone.


	11. Following a Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was a look of pity, of guilt, of weakness._

“The trick to blocking magic is to tilt your shield down,” Haurchefant explained as he adjusted the position Carine was currently holding. “It sends the magic back towards the ground and away from you.”

She grunted, sweat beading at her brow as she held the position he described. “Couldn’t I just tilt it up? That would keep it from hitting me as well.”  _ And be easier to hold for long periods of time, _ she added to herself. 

He shook his head. “If you are in the midst of battle and you block a spell tilting up, it could glance off the surface of your shield and potentially into an ally,” he clarified. 

Haurchefant was a far better instructor than Carine ever would have given him credit for. She had thought that it would be fun and games, laughter and mischief, but the lord took his task seriously. He had her awake before each dawn so that they could train together before his other knights took to the training grounds, and he kept her up even after the sun had set to see if she remembered anything of her lessons through the day.

She would have assumed he did this all for the sake of a good kiss, but the Elezen had pride in his craft and took pride in knowing he was teaching the Warrior of Light how to utilize it. This wasn’t something he was doing for a frivolous, temporary reward, but because it could mean the potential survival of their realm. And he wasn’t just training her in an act to be closer with her, but because he knew that if she were to go to Ishgard at any point her training would reflect upon him.

Like with most weapons, Carine found there was a certain art to using sword and shield. Everything else that she had ever learned was somehow intricately tied into this weapon set and somehow inverted. Rather than hang back and attack from afar with arrows, she was placed into the thick of a fight where it was most dangerous. It was easy to compensate for that, given the rogue and pugilist training she received from Thancred and Yda, a lovely surprise, all things considered but the armor was heavier as was the weapons.

Haurchefant’s training sword arched through the air in a blur, hardly giving her enough time to block the attack with the heavy shield strapped to her arm. As the force of the blow reverberated what felt like her entire body, Carin grunted and gritted her teeth as she pushed him backwards. This seemed to please the lord, for he smiled and nodded in her direction. “You are getting quicker,” he praised. “However if you can dodge, you should.”

Her brows knit together. “Wait, I thought you wore all this heavy armor to be able to take a hit? And the shield?”

He laughed, the pleasant sound echoing off the stony walls that surrounded them as he shook his head. “Gods no! They are added protection, surely, but that will not always save you from a well placed blade,” he replied. “You wouldn’t want to rely on only your armor to protect you.”

“Then why would I wish to wear it?” she questioned. “I’m much faster without it.”

“There is little doubt you are, but knights often find themselves in the thick of the battle, surrounded by swords on all sides…”

“So do rogues,” Carine countered. “And we still wear simple leathers to protect us.”

“But do they have a cumbersome shield strapped to their arm?” he arched a silvery-blue brow at her. 

He had a point. The one currently attached to her was heavy and had already thrown off her balance despite the sword held in her other hand. Thanks to her gift, Carine was able to quickly account for it, but that didn’t help her understand the point of this weapon setup. 

In the moment she was distracted, Haurchefant lunged at her again, striking at her head and neck as he had been teaching her to do. She leaned back and cursed as the tip of his practice blade cut across her lip. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as she licked at the small wound and then touched her fingers to it in surprise. 

The only person more surprised was the Elezen lord himself. He immediately dropped his weapon and detached his shield, tossing it to the ground in his hurry to examine her lip. Try as she might to tell him she was perfectly fine, he insisted and so she allowed it. It wasn’t often he was able to land a blow against her, so if he wished to examine his handiwork, she was happy to oblige. 

Just as he was with his training, Haurchefant was thorough in his examination. She watched from the tip of her nose as his eyes focused in on the swelling on her lower lip. His lips were pressed in a tight frown and his brows were knit with worry, a silly thing considering the tiny wound. 

“Question,” she playfully asked, skimming her lower lip with her tongue. “Will I live?”

His eyes shot up, capturing her gaze in an intensity that left her breathless. It was only when their eyes met that she realized just how close his face was to her own, and damnit if her heart didn’t flutter. His gloved hand reached up and tucked a loose strand of silvery-white hair from her face, his thumb tracing against her cheek. All the while she was entranced by the sheer depth of eyes that reminded her of the clear waters of Costa del Sol.

“Ah! There the two of you are!” Alphinaud called out, breaking the trance the two Elezen had been under. Carine fluttered her eyes and turned to the younger man as she tried to steady her breathing. “What happened to your face, Carine?” he asked, pausing just a few ilms from where they stood.

“Training accident,” she replied, cursing the shakiness in her voice. “Nothing that a bit of magic won’t fix up.”

That was more than enough for the teen. He seemed completely oblivious to the intimate distance that Haurchefant seemed inclined to keep, or the blush in her cheeks as he placed himself directly between the two to show them something he found interesting. 

“I’ve been going over guard rotations on the shipments coming in from Ishgard,” he began, showing a long list of names and dates that Carine was bound to forget before he finished the explanation. “Those records I had you fetch from Lord Drillemont in Whitebrim Front? They were the key in discovering a pattern.”

Alphinaud went on a long winded account of what he had been looking for verses what he had found. Carine was only halfway paying attention, the other half distinctly distracted by the occasional brush of Haurchefant’s arm as he read over the list. He would ever remain an enigma to her, she was certain. How he could go from being a disciplined teacher to worried friend to...whatever he had been just before they had been interrupted...and back to a dedicated knight was beyond her comprehension and left her head spinning. 

“...and that’s why we should rendezvous there,” Alphinaud beamed, snapping his book shut. Carine jumped, surprised at the sound and then blinked curiously at the two Elezen now giving her a quizzical look. 

“Sorry, what did I miss?” she apologized, sucking her swollen lip and worrying at the cut with her tongue. 

Alphinaud rolled his eyes and heavily sighed. “Honestly, Carine, is it too much to ask of you to pay attention?” he asked, pulling his grimoire from his hip and flipping through it for a spell that would likely heal her cut. “I  _ said _ that the group of knights that escorted Francel’s things and discovered all evidence against him and the Haillenartes thus far will be arriving in Whitebrim Front from Ishgard today. And  _ then _ I explained that it would be wise of us to go there so that we might follow them and make sure there will be no more evidence mounted against him or his family.”

This time she listened to his explanation as the cool tingling sensation of his spell worked over her lip, soothing it until the throb disappeared altogether. When he was done, she gingerly touched the place it had been and smiled when it no longer ached. “You could just point at the bad guys. I’ll know what to do from there,” she told him. 

“Oh no.  _ You _ will behave yourself. We can’t have you lashing out against Temple Knights when half of Coerthas already believes you a heretic.”

Carine stepped back in surprise. This was certainly news to her, and she looked from her fellow Scion to Haurchefant for answers. “I beg your pardon?”

Not at all concerned by the flames in her eyes, Alphinaud shrugged. “We were sent here as delegates of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Conferring with a suspected heretic is reason enough for any citizen of Ishgard to question your reasons for being here. Challenging the investigation of the leading inquisitor adds to that speculation. If I were to simply point you at the Temple Knights, that would all but prove you are a heretic,” he explained. “Naught to fear, though. Lord Haurchefant has kept the worst of the rumors from spreading.”

She arched a silver brow at that, turning her attention to the older Elezen with a pointed look. “Is that why no one speaks to me when I enter a room?”

“But of course not, my dear! ‘Tis your beauty and strength which strikes them speechless,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. Alphinaud cleared his throat and turned his attention away, knowing her temper was bubbling just beneath the surface. 

“Haurchefant…” she warned.

His smile faded and his shoulders slumped as he shook his head from side to side. “It  _ should _ be the reason, I mean to say. Alas, I cannot help the suspicions of all my fellow countrymen. They are wont to their superstitions.”

“Great. So how exactly can I help with the investigation if this Inquisitor Guillaime has labeled me a suspected heretic?” she asked. “And why haven’t I been put under lock and key as Francel?”

“Simple, my friend. There is no proof against you. Until a rosary is found on your person, or you are seen talking with a dragon, no one can truly arrest you,” Haurchefant told her. 

“And none of that is important right now,” Alphinaud grumbled. “Your job is to blend in at Whitebrim. Listen to some local gossip and keep an eye out for suspicious activity. I will be meeting with the Temple Knights to discuss their rotations and see if any of them falter while Haurchefant speaks with Lord Drillemont to acquire permission to follow the caravan of goods from a distance.”

It wasn’t a terrible plan, and Carine had learned from the best on blending in to a crowd, given the lessons she had taken from Thancred before he had been possessed by Lahabrea. She agreed to it and the trio went back into the castle to gather anything they might need for whatever might lie ahead.

 

***

 

It was midday before they arrived at Whitebrim Front. It had been an easier journey compared to their first adventure in Coerthas, but it still had the bone-chilling wind that pulled at their cloaks and stung their eyes. 

As they were only staying in Whitebrim for the day, their Chocobos were tethered outside as they entered the settlement. Carine, being the one suspected of heresy despite the immense lack of proof, kept her hood over her head as she departed ways from the other two. Haurchefant had helpfully pointed to the square in the center of the settlement on his way to meet with Lord Drillemont and mentioned the hot apple tarts made here were delicious. 

Despite the sun seemingly forever hidden by rolling, snow-laden clouds, the square was a bustle of activity. Civilians walked from merchant to merchant, examining their wares as they exchanged the latest gossip as adventurers of the land exchanged their bounties for gil or food. Children pulled at their parents clothes as they begged for just one apple tart, whose sweet scent permeated the air. 

Carine watched silently, falling into their unintentional rhythm with ease. She hugged her cloak tightly against her as she moved from stand to stand with feigned interest. The one thing she did buy was a single apple tart, mostly because they absolutely smelled divine and because they had been highly praised by Haurchefant. No one seemed to take any special notice of her as she made her way to the well that was center of the square. A few other Elezen had gathered there, drinking on their warm coffee and discussing the weather. It provided her with a perfect scope of the entire marketplace and strategically placed her where she could hear the most gossip. 

As she nibbled on the delicious confection, she listened to every passerby. Most of them had nothing worthy of her attention, just idle gossip about the various knights stationed around the settlement or some prominent family Carine didn’t know anything about. Occasionally she would hear something mentioned about a heretic lurking outside their walls. These topics often piqued her curiosity only for her to be disappointed that the heretic described sounded like  _ her. _ Others seemed interested in Lord Francel’s trials. Oddly enough, most people seemed to find it difficult to believe him a heretic, though they felt Inquisitor Guillaime knew best. 

_ Seven Hells, do these people not think for themselves? _ She asked herself as she finished the final crumbling pieces of her tart. 

Carine was about to resign to find Alphinaud and tell him that perhaps his calculation was off on the shipment date, as nothing had come through the main gates as of yet. Secretly she enjoyed watching the boy flounder as he tried to prove himself correct, but it didn’t seem that today would be that day. Just as she rose from where she had been sitting, a caravan made its way into the square and stopped nearly thirty fulms from where she was.

There were a total of four Temple Knights accompanying the two porters that lead their black Chocobos, each of them scanning every direction for any signs of trouble. From a tavern on the other side of the square came four more Temple Knights. From what she could see, they all seemed to be familiar with each other and the protocol they upheld as one knight passed a parchment off to the others. Together, the eight of them went through every crate and barrel, satchel and sack, checking off the parchment as though it contained a detailed list of everything on board. When that was done, six of the eight knights went to the barracks while two remained to stand guard of the shipment itself. 

It all seemed unremarkably formal and so rehearsed that Carine’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. She sighed and was about to leave when she noticed both of those knights disappear into the tavern behind them, leaving the two porters tending to their Chocobos in charge of the entire freight without saying a word. 

_ Now that is certainly suspicious, _ she mused, taking her seat again as she carefully watched the scene before her. It seemed hardly standard to leave something unguarded, especially given the list of rules and regulations Haurchefant had shown them not long after their arrival. Mayhap they believed it protected, given the sheer amount of Durendaire knights that patrolled the streets, but Carine wasn’t buying it. 

A few people passed by, pausing only a few moments to look around the cargo before moving on. The Warrior of Light kept a mental check on who looked and for how long, though none of them seemed suspicious about it. Eventually a knight dressed in Durendaire colors approached the shipment, standing at its side to deter any unwanted attention. 

At first, it was easy to glance over him and find appreciation that someone had noticed it left unguarded, but the longer she watched him, the more curious he became. Mayhap had he not been fidgeting and glancing around nervously, she never would have given him another look. She could have assumed it was because he was worried what might become of the Temple Knights should it be discovered that they had abandoned their post, but then she noticed his shield. 

If Carine were back in Eorzea, she wouldn’t have given him a second thought. It was normal for adventurers or hired hands not associated with a Grand Company to bear a shield lacking a sigil. What she had learned about Ishgard, however, was that was quite the opposite. Every knight she had come in contact with bore a symbol of some sort upon their shield. Whether it be the red unicorn of House Fortemps, the rose of House Haillenarte, the silver tower of House Dzemael, or the golden bell of House Durendaire, Carine knew that everyone in Coerthas pledged loyalty to one of the four High Houses of Ishgard. For a knight dressed in the reds and golds of House Durendaire to not have a bell upon his shield was most curious indeed.

Not long after his arrival, Carine watched as a Temple Knight emerged from the bar and greeted him. She found herself wondering if there was going to be any confrontation, given the evidence she now noticed. Unfortunately for her, the two seemed to know each other quite well. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest in defeat, bitter about not finding anything worthy of note to tell Alphinaud upon his return. 

And then the faux knight handed a long, wooden box to the Temple Knight. He opened it and nodded approvingly before setting it among the things on the caravan. In exchange, a pouch of what she assumed was gil was placed in the other man’s hands, allowing him to salute him and disappear into the crowd. Rather than go back into the tavern, this Temple Knight assumed his position amongst the things that would be delivered to the other settlements of Coerthas. 

So intently was she focused on the strange exchange, that she startled when a hand grabbed her shoulder. Instinct took over as she reached up and used her strength to hurl the offending body over her head and onto the cold ground at her feet. Before they could recover, Carine had already crouched over their chest and grabbed the collar of their shirt, hand clenched into a fist and ready to strike until a familiar mess of silvery-blue hair stopped her. 

“Haurchefant?” she gasped, sitting down on his chest and brushing his hair from his face to get a better look. 

The lord grimaced, nose wrinkling in his pain as he squinted up at her. “Question, are you always so touchy? Or do you just prefer to be on top?”

“It appears you are fine then,” she rolled her eyes and shifted her weight off him.

“That isn’t how we play the game,” he winked, accepting her offered hand for help to his feet and earning him another scowl. 

“Mayhap you shouldn’t surprise the Warrior of Light in the middle of an investigation, hm?” 

His eyes lit up in excitement and he grinned from pointed ear to pointed ear. “You found something then?”

Carine glanced around them. Most people had stopped in the wake of her overreaction and were now staring at them as they whispered to each other. It was clear, given the hands on the hilts of weapons, their exchange was suspicious, so she lightened the mood by placing a hand upon Haurchefant’s chest. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she warned through a warm smile. “But I think it best we retire somewhere more...private. Care for a drink?”

His eyes glanced down to where her hand comfortably rested upon his chest and then back to her lips while wetting his own. “Why, if you wanted to go on a date, my dear, you simply had to ask,” he replied, using his hands to tuck a stray hair behind her ear while smiling down at her.

She blinked rapidly and broke the contact as a blush spread across her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant…” she tried to correct him, but the stubborn man had already offered her his arm. There was little else she could do but take his offer and follow him to the towel while pretending to not be as flustered as she was.

Carine lead them to a booth in front of a window where she could still easily watch the Temple Knight guarding the shipment. She hardly paid any attention to the waitress that had come to take their order, or that Haurchefant had ordered for her as she watched for any other changes. 

“What is so fascinating about him?” he asked, following her gaze. “You have hardly let the man out of your sight.”

She gave him a sidelong glance and an impish grin. “Jealous?”

“Quite,” he replied, and for a moment, she actually believed him. “Pray tell, what did you discover?”

Her fingers twisted as she nervously glanced around the room for anyone that might be listening in. There was still one knight unaccounted for, not that she could see him…

She froze as Haurchefant untangled her fingers, taking her hands in his. Her eyes fluttered to where his thumb gently rubbed the back of her hand, comforting her and easing the tension that had been gradually building within. It was a bold move, but one she found herself gracious for as she looked back to his ever smiling face and began telling him everything she had witnessed. 

He listened to her intently, frowning the entire time until his face was writ with worry. She felt his hands gently squeeze hers as he cursed and glared at the knight out the window. “By the Fury! It is one thing to suspect one of the four High Houses behind this ordeal, but a Temple Knight?”

Returning the comfort he had given her, Carine held his hands and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Mayhap ‘tis just the one? We won’t know unless my theory proves true.”

“I appreciate your effort, Carine, but that gives me no greater comfort,” he sighed. “I must inform the Knight Commander at once. Damned heretics!”

“I’m inclined to agree. Considering Camp Dragonhead is their next stop, whatever that thing is will be found. If it happens to be in anything bound for you…”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence for him to get her meaning. At once he stood, fingers still laced with hers, and made his way out of the tavern. Carine thought he had half a mind to confront the knight himself, but he passed by the man without a backwards glance as he headed towards the main keep where he had gone to speak with Lord Drillemont. 

Along the way, people stared at the pair of them, their eyes automatically drawn to where their hands were joined. She knew it wasn’t customary for public displays of affection to be so blatantly obvious and she blushed at what they were inferring from this scene they were witnessing. There was nothing she could do to tell them otherwise as the lord lead her through the crowd and up the steps to find Lord Drillemont exiting the building.

He was an older man, nigh fifty years if Carine had to guess. He bore a haggard appearance like that of a man that had witnessed far too much bloodshed in his lifetime, complete with the scars to prove his own battles. A thick, blond beard lined his square jaw and framed his wide, downturned mouth. Tired eyes looked between them and his thick, coarse brows knit together with concern as he greeted them.

“Lord Haurchefant. I was under the impression you were on your way back to Camp Dragonhead. Is aught amiss?” he asked before turning his pale eyes towards her. Carine wasn’t entirely sure how to receive the man as she didn’t know his personal opinion of her as of yet, so she simply nodded and followed his gaze to where her hand rested in Haurchefant’s. “I take it this is the lovely woman you were speaking of earlier?”

Carine blushed a deep Dalamud red and instinctively pulled her hand from his, eyes flitting to the ground in embarrassment. She would have to ask him later exactly what was exchanged between the two of them as Drillemont’s eyes wrinkled in a telling smile.

“Ah, but she is,” Haurchefant practically beamed. “And as much as I would love to introduce you, I fear we may be in a bit of a hurry…”

Her awkwardness was soon forgotten as Haurchefant urged her to recite what she had told him. Much like her friend, Lord Drillemont seemed deeply troubled by what she had witnessed and quickly followed them to the square where the shipment had been waiting. Much to her annoyance, it was not at all where it had been just minutes before. Instead there was a rather flustered Alphinaud stomping their way with determination. 

“Where have you been?” he asked, sapphire eyes flashing at the two of them. 

“Solving the bloody case,” she shot back. “Where’s the shipment?”

“It just left for Camp Dragonhead, right on schedule,” the teen replied, tapping his book as though it were something to be proud of. 

Carine cursed under her breath, cutting off whatever long-winded speech he was going to give that she wasn’t likely to pay attention to. All she could think about is what sort of trouble would befall Haurchefant if a Temple Knight were to discover contraband amongst his things. 

Sensing her distress, the man she worried for smiled in reassurance. “Come now, Carine, they can’t have traveled too far if they just left.” Haurchefant then turned to Lord Drillemont. “Might we have use of your men to apprehend the shipment?”

The elder lord nodded and gave an order to several of his knights to follow the trio out the gate and towards Camp Dragonhead. Just as they had suspected, the caravan was hardly out of sight of the settlement, near the Gates of Judgement that lead to Ishgard itself. It was all she could do and not rush to the questionable Temple Knight herself, but one look at Alphinaud was enough to remind her to be patient. 

She rather  _ hated _ being patient.

“Halt!” Carine cried out when they were in range. She urged Buck into a faster trot to gain the lead and place herself in front of them. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” One of the knights asked, stepping forward with his hand on his hilt. It wasn’t the knight in question, but Carine could see him hiding there in the back. 

“An ambush?!” one of the porters exclaimed, pointing at her with fear in his eyes. “‘Tis the woman Inquisitor Guillaime says is a heretic!”

At once the Temple Knights drew their weapons, pointing the tips of their swords to her and daring her to make a move. Even the imposter followed suit, pretending to the last. She held up her hands in peace, thankful for once to not be laden with weapons. They most likely would have struck her where she stood. 

Or  _ tried. _

“Ho now friends!” Haurchefant called out, riding up and placing himself between Carine and the knights without fear. “You would turn your blade against a defenseless woman?”

She wanted to laugh and tease him for his impeccable sense of humor, but she was wise enough to know that now wasn’t the time nor the place to reveal her hand. Still, the idea that she was defenseless was amusing, as was the way they all seemed to lower their blades as they realized she had nothing to use against them. 

Not that they knew anyway. Yda  _ had _ taught her how to punch her way out of things if need be.

“Lord Haurchefant, we do not believe you to have any relationship to the heretics however, this woman…” one knight began, glancing past the man he was speaking to and looking pointedly at her.

“Is my guest, and an honored one at that. To strike a blow to her would be to also strike a blow against House Fortemps and Ishgard can hardly afford a civil war in the midst of the one we currently fight,” he replied with confidence.

“Be that as it may, she is still suspected of heresy. We have a duty to uphold. You must admit that halting a shipment is something our enemies are wont to do.”

“Of course, but she is accompanied by not only myself, but Durendaire knights. Are you to believe we are all heretics as well?” Haurchefant countered the man. 

By now, the Durendaire knights ordered to assist them formed a semicircle beside Carine, blocking off the path, yet leaving the rear wide open. Her eyes watched the imposter pale and begin to slowly back away. To her left was an archer casually holding his bow in his hand. As deftly as she was able, she leaned down and grasped the bow and an arrow and trained it on the Temple Knight currently fleeing the scene. Before Alphinaud could stop her, Carine loosed the bolt, striking the runner in his calf and effectively inhibiting him from getting too far. 

“She struck a Temple Knight!” A porter cried, covering his head and cowering in the shadow of his unbothered Chocobo companion. What she didn’t expect was for nearly all blades, including those of House Durendaire, to be turned upon her. 

“Oh come on! He was running away! I stopped him and saved you the trouble,” she grumbled, dropping the weapon she had momentarily stolen. 

“And why, exactly, did you feel the need to attack one of our own that was going for confirmation that this little stunt was ordained by Lord Drillemont?” the leading knight asked, motioning her to dismount. 

Haurchefant followed close behind, his hand resting on his own blade, but Carine wasn’t going to allow him to take any sort of fall for her. “You have a heretic in your midsts and yet you would turn your blade to me?” she asked. 

“Such accusations are tantamount to treason in these parts, unbeliever,” he glared, pressing his blade to her neck. 

She looked down and rolled her eyes as she sighed. “Look, either you can make a very bad decision and attempt to arrest or even kill me, or you could turn your attention to the man crawling away into the bushes to avoid seeking your help in healing him,” she told him. “If I were you, I would go with the latter option.”

It would be now of all times her temper would flare. She was tired, cold, and over the stupid fear of heretics when the only ones she had seen the entire time of being in this godsforsaken wasteland were the two involved in this shipment. They had tried it the diplomatic way without resorting to violence and all that had done was make her look like a bloody heretic herself. It was nigh time to do it her way, and so far, that was getting shit done.

One of the other knights went to retrieve their fallen companion, assisting him to the best of his ability before setting him down on the ground. Alphinaud went to aid the man, but Carine held him back and shook her head. 

“You better be right about this,” he murmured, closing his grimoire and folding his arms over his chest. 

She didn’t need to be reminded. If she was wrong, it would be little benefit to the Scions or the Eorzean Alliance and ultimately the entire realm. She was here because Garlemald was looking at them, simmering in the aftermath of yet another defeat at the hands of the last country they longed to control. If she failed, there would be no alliance with Ishgard and their chances would be damned and she would likely be killed for her actions against the Empire. 

“They have accused you of heresy. Is there naught to say in your defense?” the commanding knight asked, his tone clipped and formal. 

“They lie.”

“Check the shipment,” Carine ordered, ignoring the icy stare from Alphinaud. “That last crate on the right should have a long wooden box stashed within it.”

It didn’t go unnoticed the way the imposter knight paled at her words, even going as far as to try and struggle against the man holding him. The other knights looked to each other, but did as she had instructed. All the while Haurchefant watched the injured man as if he were looking for something. 

Moments later and the knights’ search effort went rewarded as the procured the same wooden box Carine had seen being placed earlier. Upon opening it, the knights pulled out a string of onyx beads; a draconic rosary if Haurchefant’s description had been accurate. She was finally able to release the breath she had been holding, pleased to see that her eyes hadn’t deceived her nor had she made a fool out of herself. Even Alphinaud looked up to her apologetically as they passed around the contraband to discern it as proof. 

“So, am I in the clear?” she asked, hands at her hips. 

All at once the knight at their feet grabbed for one of their swords, jerking it from its sheath and swinging it around madly. Haurchefant was quick to retaliate, drawing his own sword and putting it to the heretic’s throat in an attempt to subdue him. “Be still and no harm shall befall you,” he spoke calmly and clearly and meant every word. 

The heretic knight glared upon him with malicious intent, face set in a hateful sneer. “I do not fear you or your Fury,” he spat, his eyes half crazed as he looked to them all. “I shall do my lady’s bidding and die by my own blade than to face your Fury’s judgement!”

Before anyone could stop him, the man turned his blade upon himself and fell upon it, impaling his body upon the cold steel. Carine gasped and pushed herself between Alphinaud and the macabre scene that had played out as if she could spare him the sight. The body twitched and writhed, moaned and gasped as blood sputtered from his lips and onto the pure white of the snow. All anyone could do was stand and watch as life fell away from him, drip by drip until he finally moved no more. 

Several of the knights cursed, one of the cowardly porters vomited into the bushes, Alphinaud paled, but Haurchefant refused to turn away. His pale eyes stared at the fallen man in the snow, jaw clenched and sword hand slack. It took one look from Carine to know where his mind had gone. It was a look she had often found staring back at her in the mirror after Marni had died. It was the look she sometimes saw when she thought about Gaius and his plea to her. It was a look of pity, of guilt, of weakness. 

Carine walked to his side, looking down at the mess before him. He didn’t move nor did he even seem to recognize that she was there. Carefully she removed his sword from his fingers, letting it fall to the snow in favor of replacing its weight with her own hand. She knew nothing she could say would ease the trouble in his mind, only that he needed a friend to lean on. And so she stood by his side, gently squeezing his hand while everyone else attempted to clean the mess at their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am not gonna lie. This chapter was a struggle. I had it completed and then had to start it all over because, frankly...it sucked. It still sucks, but I will say I much prefer the kinship development between Haurchefant and Carine here vs what I had written before. It feels a bit more natural.
> 
> Eventually, I will get to the better parts of this fic. Right now, for what ever reason, this all plays out so much better in my head than it is on a page. I've mulled over this chapter too long as is. *le sigh*


	12. Carefree in Coerthas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He was a lord and a noble knight of House Fortemps from the Holy See of Ishgard.  
>  And she was still the Warrior of Light. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, fluffy, happy chapter!!! FINALLY! 
> 
> Surprise!!!! I'm not dead and the muse is still with me!! I apologize for the wait, but this chapter is so much better than it was!! Thank you for your patience and continued support! I couldn't do it without you!

“This is an outrage!”

Carine had just been passing the main hall when Inquisitor Guillaime’s voice echoed through the chamber, stopping her in her tracks. Her brows puckered together as she pivoted from her original destination to listen in on whatever this “outrage” was. She hadn’t realized that Guillaime was in Camp Dragonhead, or even why. From what she had been told, the draconic rosaries they had recovered from the shipment and from the imposter’s neck were going to be transported straight to Ishgard, not be toted around until the Inquisitor was able to look upon them. There had been more than enough witnesses to prove their validity. 

“I would be inclined to agree with you, Inquisitor, had I not witnessed it with my own eyes,” Lord Haurchefant replied. “But the man fell upon his blade before me rather than have his faith questioned.”

“And we were not the only such witnesses,” Alphinaud interjected, his light voice sounded through the cracked wooden doors. “There were several other Temple Knights just as shocked as we.”

Curiosity piqued, Carine silently leaned against the frame and listened in. Occasionally she could see movement from the small space between the door and its frame accompanied by the sound of boots scuffing against the stony floor. She figured it was most likely the agitated Inquisitor pacing back and forth as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that his suspect was now undoubtedly innocent.

“I still see lack of sufficient evidence to prove the Temple Knights have been infiltrated by heretics. You are going off one person’s word…” Guillaime stated. 

“The person that bore witness to the act itself,” Haurchefant quickly reminded him. “My friend was there to see…”

_ “Supposedly _ see,” the inquisitor hissed. “For all you know, it was  _ she _ that had put it there to begin with, if what you say is true and the shipment was left unattended.”

The Warrior of Light shook her head and rolled her eyes as she pushed through the door and silenced them. She wouldn’t stand for them all speaking as though she weren’t here in this very castle and she surely wouldn’t allow the inquisitor to speak of her as if she were the cause of all his problems. 

“Do speak up. I’m afraid I was unable to hear you,” she smirked. “I almost thought I heard you imply that  _ I  _  was the one to plant the rosary.”

Guillaime’s pointed face reddened, his jaw setting with determination as he turned to face her. “Oh but I most certainly did. You were, after all, the  _ only _ person in all of Whitebrim to witness this faux knight trading coin with the supposed heretic. Suspicious, is it not?”

“Far less suspicious than a heretic posing as a Temple Knight one would assume,” Carine growled as she leaned over the wooden table and narrowed her eyes at the Elezen before her. “Have you not spoken to the knights traveling with the man? Or are they above speculation?”

Alphinaud cleared his throat in warning, the sapphire of his eyes flashing as he put on a brilliant smile to lessen the sting of her words. “Though I do not agree with my companion’s tone,” he began, turning his attention to the inquisitor. “I must echo the same question. Would you not be inclined to question those that were also in charge of watching the shipment? Or those that knew the man? Were there no hints to his true intentions?”

He shook his head defiantly and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was there upon his initiation into the Temple Knight ranks. The man and his family have ever been faithful servants of Ishgard. Which is why I find it highly improbable that it was  _ he _ that planted the rosary.”

“I’m sorry, but aren’t the Hallienarte’s just as faithful?” Carine scoffed, her expression incredulous. “And yet you would continue to believe Francel capable of turning his back on his brethren?”

“There has been sufficient evidence to question the Haillenarte’s loyalty. I wouldn’t expect an  _ unbeliever _ or an outsider to understand,” the inquisitor replied. 

Haurchefant crossed his arms over his chest and raised a single brow. “Outsider or no, this is more than enough evidence to delay the trial to investigate,” he said matter-of-factly. “And unlike my friends here, I am well versed in the manners of Ishgard judgements and proceedings. I have already sent word to the capital with a detailed account of what I witnessed along with the draconian rosaries found on both the knight in question and the shipment itself. I imagine they will be apt to send more inquisitors to aid you in your investigations.”

Guillaime’s face turned several shades of red, his mouth quivering with anger unspoken. Carine just  _ waited _ for him to slip, waited for an opportunity to unleash her own judgement upon this fool of a man that seemed content to ignore vital evidence to help spare a man’s life, but he did not grant her the satisfaction. Instead, Guillaime took a deep breath and straightened his coat while squaring his shoulders as he turned to the Fortemps knight. 

“Be wary of whom you associate with, Lord Haurchefant. I would hate for the next target become your family because of whom you choose to warm your bed,” the inquisitor sneered as he walked boldly past her and out the door. 

She was left open-mouthed at the audacity of his implication, fingers curling and uncurling at her sides with indecision. Should she march up to him and punch him in that pointed face to save Haurchefant’s honor? Or stand there as Alphinaud expected her to and allow the man to believe she was sleeping with the lord in an attempt to have him turn against his countrymen?

Being a diplomat fucking sucked.

“I suppose that could have gone better,” Alphinaud shrugged after a few moments of seething silence from Carine. “I would assume, however, the trial has indeed been delayed for the time being?”

Haurchefant beamed, not a note of concern on his smiling face as he nodded. “There is naught that can be done until further investigations are had. It may not release Francel from being imprisoned within his own home, but he is alive and safe for now.”

“But he practically threatened your family!” Carine rounded on him, jaw set and teeth clenched.  _ And he implied we were sleeping together, _ she added mentally, though that was more of a jab at her than her newest friend. “How could you be okay with that?”

Immediately she thought back to the night that Nero had casually brought up her mother in an attempt to make her compliant on working with the Garleans to find the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. It had been a low, cruel blow. Now that she considered it, that should have been the first time she knew Nero was just like the rest of his kind. She had been beside herself, angered and scared at the thought of her mother’s life being in danger because of her. 

Haurchefant, however, did not seem the least bit fazed.  

“‘Twould take much more than me sleeping with a heretic to bring House Fortemps low, I can assure you,” he winked at her with a little grin. “And ‘tis not the first scandal against them either.”

His words gave her pause, sending her mind reeling with a newfound curiosity. “Wait...you are a  _ member _ of the Fortemps family?” she asked before she could stop herself. Come to think of it, she didn’t know anything about who his family was and she wasn’t certain she remembered him talking about it.

_ Not all families disown their children for being bastards… _ The thought came quickly to her mind, paling her face as she realized how stupid and personal a question that was. She opened her mouth to apologize, though the Elezen lord was quick to stop her.

“Carine, would you care to spend the day with me?” he asked, sending her for yet another loop she wasn’t remotely prepared for. 

“I-you...like a date?” she stuttered, eyes darting towards Alphinaud who was wordlessly scouring the documents that had been laid upon the table before her untimely entrance. 

Haurchefant’s eyes shimmered with an intensity that made her regret the question as the corner of his lip quirked at the thought. “Why, that had not been my intention, my dear,” he said as he leaned in to take her hand and place a gentle kiss upon it. “But when a  _ beautiful  _ lady such as yourself insists, who am I to turn her away?”

She was completely at a loss for words. The mischievous lord had skillfully pushed her into a corner she was ill equipped to get out of without some form of help. If Alphinaud had heard any of the exchange currently going on, he showed no sign as his lips moved silently while reading the parchment in his hands. 

And then she remembered his reaction the other night. The glance of innocence and uncertainty when she had leaned in to play him at his own game. If she could do that to him then, she could certainly do it now.

“Might I put on something more...suitable for a date?” she asked, looking down at the woolen vest that kept her torso and chest warm coupled with the stained breeches from helping some of the locals of Camp Dragonhead earlier that morning with whatever they needed. 

Rather than blush and falter as he had done before, Haurchefant practically  _ glowed _ with anticipation as he enthusiastically kissed her hand. “What you wear is of little concern to me, my dear,” he grinned as he slowly raised up. “Just so long as you are at the tavern in half a bell?”

She stood there utterly speechless as he took his leave, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as he passed by with what could only be bewilderment at his behavior. Carine looked back at Alphinaud, unsure of how the younger Elezen diplomat might take this new development. Alas, he still seemed completely preoccupied by the stacks of parchments in his hands, completely consumed in his study of Ishgardian politics to see the plight of his friend and companion. 

She made her way wordlessly to her room to find whatever clothes would be warm enough to withstand the harsh Coerthan climate, yet nice enough to appear presentable. Most of her clothes were made of hardened leather for protecting herself against whatever enemies she might face. They were hardly worthy of going out and socializing with someone,  _ especially _ Haurchefant. 

_ Oh no you don’t, _ she scolded herself with a deliberate shake of her head.  _ He can take whatever I damn well please to give him. I never said this was a date… _

But the thought of having him sharing in his afternoon with her wasn’t entirely unwelcome either. She sighed heavily, picking up the nicer leather vest with wool lining.  _ Would it really be so bad to indulge? _ She knew the answer to that before the question had fully formed, but she would rather not acknowledge that the Scions might frown upon this little adventure.

With another heavy sigh, Carine decided upon the nicer of her vests and a plain white shirt beneath. It was light enough that she could wear a thick coat over it without overheating, but warm enough to keep the worst of the chill from her body while inside the tavern. With it she chose some leather, wool-lined breeches for extra warmth, and boots that laced to her knees. A look in the mirror gave her the impression of a well-seasoned adventurer, both rugged and strangely refined. 

Though she didn’t expect to run into any trouble, Carine still kept a sharpened dagger at her side and some throwing knives hidden in specialized pockets on her breeches and boots. Just because she didn’t have any declared enemies in this territory did not mean she shouldn’t be prepared for whatever might happen. Given the apparent trouble heretics have been causing the locals, she deemed it would be more than wise to keep some protection on her at all cost. 

 

***

 

“Take cover!”

Carine was left with little time to prepare as the full weight of the man that had been walking at her side crashed into her body with enough force to send her sprawling into a snow drift. Lord Haurchefant groaned above her, driving her instinct to quickly put herself between the threat and the man that was her current host. Fear gripped her heart as she looked him over, lilac eyes scouring every inch of him to see where he had been injured all while reaching for the weapons carefully hidden on her person to defend them if need be. 

“Are you hurt?” she asked, unable to see any sign of damage done to the knight while straddling his hips and glancing quickly over her shoulder. A dash of movement caught her eye and without hesitation she turned to flick her throwing knife at the assailant. As quick as she was, Haurchefant seemed to guess at what she was doing and grabbed her wrist before the blade could slice through the air. One more movement and he was back on top of her, a lecherous smile on his lips. 

“If I were, would you nurse me back to health?” he winked. 

Carine was utterly confused as the lord pushed himself off of her and gave a hand to help her to her feet as though he hadn’t just been attacked in the broad light of day. Well...as broad light as it could get in Coerthas that is. “What’s going on?” she asked, dusting the snow from her breeches and scouring the snowy countryside for anymore signs of danger. The threat was still out there, even if there were a half dozen of the finest Fortemps knights currently patrolling the battlements above them.

And then, quick as lightning, white flashed through the air from across the frozen pathway and landed with a hard thud against her chest. Her eyes went wide as she looked down at the snow that had exploded against her before turning her questioning gaze to the knight. Haurchefant was clearly suppressing the urge to laugh as the back of his hand raised to his lips while he looked her over with twinkling blue eyes. “It appears, my dear, that we are at war.”

As if on cue, several more balls of snow launched into the air, each one striking against her and her companion while peals of children’s laughter echoed against the stony facade behind them. Haurchefant quickly took cover behind one of the larger drifts, gathering snow around him to begin making his own ammunition while Carine stood there dazed and a little more than confused. 

It was a bloody snowball fight. 

Heat pricked at her cheeks and the tips of her long ears from embarrassment and shame that she had almost thrown a knife at a child.  _ Had he not been paying attention... _ quickly she perished the thought, not wanting to imagine what she would be doing now had things not gone so smoothly. Instead, she kept her hands busy by attempting to make snowballs. 

There was a slight issue. Gridania hardly ever saw snow and when it did, it was a minor dusting compared to what Coerthas had to offer. She couldn’t recall a time in her life where she had ever made snowballs before, and it was showing in her work. While Haurchefant’s were perfect palm-sized balls, Carine’s ammunition was more lumpy and formless and quick to fall apart before ever reaching her intended target. 

Not wanting to appear entirely clueless, she watched his hands work the snow from a fine powder to a solid ball in a matter of moments, keeping his secret completely hidden before launching the missle through the air and hitting one of the offending kids. Each time his aim landed on his target, the children would squeal and scream and duck behind their makeshift fort of snow. So far, none of her snowballs even managed to make it across the road.

“Having trouble, Warrior of Light?” Haurchefant grinned from beside her, offering out one of his own creations. 

Carine shook her head. “How in Seven Hells do you do that?” she asked, dropping another failed attempt back into the snow. 

“Here, let me show you,” he replied, putting his hands around hers and scooping up the snow. “The trick is to start little by little and add more as you go. It gives you a small shape you can work with and turn it into something bigger.”

She watched in earnest, soaking in all this information as his hands made hers do all the work until she had a slightly smaller version of his own snowballs in her hand. A part of her was embarrassed for such a simple task eluding her, but Carine was far more elated at the fact she finally knew how to make one herself and eagerly wanted to test it out. 

Her eyes peeked out from behind her small snowdrift, looking for any opportunity while Haurchefant waited poised beside her. She watched as small heads popped up to see if they could launch another attack and then duck back down as Haurchefant threw ammo at them. Like the trained hunter she was, she counted, marking the pattern in their movements and calculated just when they would next look up. She bit her lip as she drew back, launching her snowball across the mock battlefield and straight into a little girl’s face just as she peeked over the edge. 

The force of the blow was enough to knock the child backwards, but apparently not enough to faze the little demon for she wasted no time in throwing a flurry of snow towards Carine the moment she was back on her feet. It was all the Warrior of Light could do to duck and cover her face to avoid the worst of it all while trying to make more ammunition to strike back. 

“Hmm, it appears they have numbers on their side and a fine stockpile of weapons. We are no match. It would be wise to fall back,” Haurchefant declared as he ducked to avoid snow to the face. 

Carine, already invested in this playful battle, was quick to discourage that line of thinking. “You  _ do _ remember who I am, yes?” she smirked. “You make the balls, I’ll do the throwing.”

His eyes lit up as he met her determined gaze, a wide grin spreading across his handsome features as he nodded in agreement. 

The two of them working together made quite the comeback against the children that had seemed adequately prepared for an all out war. It was clear that Haurchefant was no stranger to playing this way as his hands made snowballs almost as quickly as Carine could throw them. The joyous sounds of children’s laughter echoed through the cloudy haze that seemed to consistently hang around Camp Dragonhead, allowing the Warrior of Light to forget about the harsh landscape and colder people that lived here. 

Right now, in this moment, Carine felt free. There was no duty that kept her bound to the chill that nipped at her exposed flesh. There was no deadline that had to be met. There was no reason for her to keep her mouth shut out of fear of speaking her mind. For the first time since she had been drafted, Carine could just  _ be. _

She didn’t have to care if the knights looked down on her rolling in the snow. She didn’t have to care if nobility were scoffing as they passed by. Hells, she didn’t even apologize to the merchants that were unfortunate to get caught up in the crossfire. She could laugh and scream and feel like her old self again without restraint.

And it was more uplifting that any words ever spoken.

The longer the battle went on, the more daring the children and their adult counterparts became. They soon fled their snowy fortresses in favor of finding more snow to turn into their harmless weapons. Rather than dive behind snow drifts, they used trees and large rocks for cover. The downside was that left them completely exposed when trying to make more snowballs when they ran out.

And it didn’t take long before Carine was out of ammo. 

Haurchefant was preoccupied with two other kids nearly twenty fulms from where she was currently, leaving her to her own devices. She was so deep in concentration, forming what she considered to be the perfect snowball, that she didn’t notice the other kids approaching her carefully from behind. It wasn’t until she stood up and turned around with a huge grin on her face that she had realized her mistake. 

It happened in a blur. She noticed the two throwing their snowballs at her. They were easy enough to dodge and launch a counter attack. What she hadn’t accounted for was the third child hidden behind them, waiting for her moment to shine as she sought revenge on the warrior that struck her in the face. With no ammo to save her, Carine could only watch as this little girl, eyes wide and wild, took aim and released.

Before she could close her eyes and accept her fate, she noticed a shadow moving quickly before her. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in for a tight embrace as Haurchefant placed himself between her and the offending snowball. The force of his aid caused the Elezen woman to slip backwards. Thrown off balance, the two of them fell into the snow and stayed there as the kids launched what was left of their snowballs at them. 

Laughter filled the air as Haurchefant covered her from the worst of the assault. Snow exploded against his back as the relentless children cackled and howled, echoed by the adults now grinning madly at each other. Carine couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed this much, and it was all thanks to the lord now beaming down at her. She couldn’t help but smile back, eyes twinkling with utter joy as she reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. 

The moment her fingers skimmed the edge of his cheek, time seemed to stop. It was almost as if the world had shifted, changed in some tangible way, yet the Elezen couldn’t understand exactly  _ how.  _ One moment she had been grinning like a fool at the man poised carefully above her and the next she found herself staring deeply into his eyes, taken aback at just how crystal clear and vividly light blue they were.  

Where once she would have found herself faltering and blushing, anxious to look away from the intensity of his eager gaze, Carine now felt the faintest flutter in her chest. Haurchefant wasn’t just looking at her to appreciate her in the way she had grown accustomed, he was searching her very soul. The laughter that had once been flowing freely from her lips was now trapped in her throat almost choking her, but she couldn’t find the will to look away. 

Breath fogged out between them as moments seemed to stretch into eternity, neither making a move away from the other. The children had long been forgotten, their shrill laughter dying in their ears as they grew bored of the adults that were now lost in each other’s eyes. A large, gloved hand traced the outer line of her jaw with the barest of brushes as icy blue gems glanced down at her parted lips.

So sure was she that Haurchefant was preparing to kiss her, Carine nervously licked her lips and attempted to steady her breathing. There was no reason for her to be as anxious as she was, she had kissed many a men before now and if life were kind, she would live to kiss many more. Haurchefant wasn’t just any man though. He was a lord and a noble knight of House Fortemps from the Holy See of Ishgard. 

And she was still the Warrior of Light. 

With what little will was left within her, Carine reached out and grabbed a fistfull of snow and slammed it into Haurchefant’s face. The poor lord was too stunned at the sudden change in the woman that he could only stare slack jawed at her before allowing a wicked grin to spread across his handsome features. 

And thus a new game began.

The afternoon waned on as the two Elezen bounded throughout Camp Dragonhead in their playful game of chase until they were left breathless with their faces and ears half frozen. It didn’t take much convincing from either of them to retire for a while within one of the local taverns located within the settlement to warm their frozen digits and thaw their pink cheeks. 

To her great surprise, Haurchefant didn’t order hot chocolate as she had, preferring a coffee laden with sweet cream instead. It took one sip of her warm beverage to understand why he hadn’t, considering just how bland it was in comparison to his own recipe. 

“They lack a  _ special _ ingredient. And ‘tis not for lack of trying,” he explained as he watched her face scrunch as she swallowed it down. “There are some tricks and trades one simply cannot teach.”

She nodded in agreement, pushing aside the stein in favor of rubbing her fingers together for warmth. The inside of the tavern was much warmer than the chilly evening air that had settled around Camp Dragonhead. The fireplace welcomed them warmly as did the casual conversations that took place in the booths surrounding where they now sat. 

“You seem to know most everyone here,” Carine noted, watching the way men and women nodded and waved at the lord before her with recognition in their eyes. 

“But of course!” he replied. “‘Tis wise to know the thoughts and needs of the people that look to you in trying times. ‘Tis better to be friendly, in my experience.”

“Not all Ishgardians seem to share this ideal of yours.”

Haurchefant shrugged, not the least bit bothered by the fact he could not refute. “You are not wrong, my friend.”

Carine looked down at her hands and chewed her lower lip in contemplation. Curiosity wasn’t something she lacked, though the courage to be so bold was a different story. “Tell me, Lo-Haurchefant,” she corrected herself, remembering that they were friends now. “Why is it you stay here? I have seen your paintings in your room, read a few of the books you hold within your library. I have answered your every question about the places that lie beyond your borders. You seem so...interested...in places just outside your door, why not travel? Why not get away?”

The smile in his eyes faltered, the corners of his mouth falling ever so slightly she may not have noticed had she not been paying attention. What was more, the lord even seemed to sigh as he leaned back in his seat and tapped the edge of the wooden table with his gloved fingers. “Might I counter your question with one of mine own before answering?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head. Carine shrugged and nodded, choosing then to take another sip of the hot chocolate she had ordered despite it not being quite to her liking. “If you were not the Warrior of Light, what would you be doing right now?”

She blinked in surprise, not expecting that question to be the one he asked. In fact, it wasn’t a question she asked herself. As far as she was concerned, being the Warrior of Light was all she was now; a hero for those in need, for those that could not save themselves from the might of the Empire or the wrath of the of Primals. The thought that if she weren’t what she was hadn’t crossed her mind until now. 

Instinctively, her fingers reached up and brushed against the ring now carefully hidden in her shirt. One look at the recognition in his eyes as he studied her let her know he hadn’t intended to bring up that part of her past. “If I weren’t the Warrior of Light, I suppose I would still be locked in a Castrum,” she finally replied in a whisper.  _ Married to a man that had never known love and was most likely incapable of looking at me the way you do, _ she added silently to herself as she picked at her nail beds. 

“Better yet,” the lord hurried, his own hands reaching out to take hers. “If the Empire hadn’t come. If there were no marriage treaty. If there had been no Calamity...what would you have been doing right now?”

Carine’s lip quirked up as she thought about the days she had spent picking wildflowers with Violaine and her mother, splashing in the bubbling brook near their cottage and racing their Chocobos through the tall trees of the Twelveswood. She thought back to her archery lessons with Silvairre and his disapproving stare when she would outshoot him on the range, or the elation she would feel at having hunted a decent buck with a nearly perfect pelt for trading. 

Her smile broadened as she looked back into his eyes with understanding. “I would be home. The place I belong.”

Saying the words aloud left her chest feeling empty and hollow. Thanks to the Garleans, that future had been taken from her. Had it not been for their misguided attempt at bringing down Dalamud in Project Meteor, she never would have had to bear witness to the terror and destruction wrought by the elder primal Bahamut. Had it not been for them trying to capture Eorzea time and time again until both countries were desperate for some sort of resolution that they had to come up with a treaty, her sister never would have been taken and married off to some prince figure in their bloody empire. 

“Coerthas, as cold and lifeless as she may seem, is my home. The people here are my people,” Haurchefant went on, snapping her out of her despair. “Just as you saw to keeping your people safe from the likes of the Garleans and the Primals, I would see to keeping my own countrymen safe from the threat we have faced nigh a thousand years.”

“And when that is over?” she asked. “Would you still remain here in Camp Dragonhead?”

“Why, my dear, you seem to believe I have no choice but to spend all of my days within these walls!” he laughed, thumb stroking the back of her hand. “Travel is not out of the question, though finding the time and the people to keep this place running is ever difficult.”

Carine pursed her lips together tightly. “I see…” she pondered. “Mayhap once Francel has truly been cleared of his charges of heresy?”

“Undoubtedly,” he winked in return, draining the last of his coffee. “Have you warmed yourself enough for one last stroll?”

As much as she wanted to tell the man that retiring for an evening to curl under the heaps of furs and blankets waiting on her bed sounded marvelous, Carine found herself eagerly following him out of the tavern and through the frozen pathways of his settlement. She didn’t question where they were going until he lead her through the gates heading towards Whitebrim without their Chocobos in hand. Almost as if he had sensed her hesitation, Haurchefant reached back and laced his fingers with hers. Her heart raced at the contact, cheeks flushing from the heat rising there rather than the cold bite of the wind as he lead her to a small incline. 

He was a strange whirlwind of a man, of that Carine had no doubt as he released her in favor of falling with his back to the snow. Amused, she watched as he spread his arms and legs out, fanning them over the untouched snow with a look of pure glee in his face. 

“Fond of what you see?” Haurchefant asked with a crooked grin, winking at her devilishly as he paused in his antics to tease her.

“To be quite honest, my lord, I am not entirely sure what it is you are trying to accomplish by waving your arms in the snow,” Carine admitted, watching him with fascination. 

His eyes widened in shock and mock horror as he clutched at his chest. “You mean to tell me you haven’t made snow fairies?”

“Some of us have to be adults from time to time,” she mocked, joining him in the snow. “Luckily for you, now is not one of those times for me.”

The sun descended in the sky, bringing on the dark coat of night. The two Elezen worn from their flailing in the snow, rested with their eyes cast up towards the moonlit sky. Carine wondered when the clouds had parted, allowing the full moon to light the snowy landscape around them. It had turned what she had been seeing as a cold and lifeless world into a land straight out of one of her mother’s fairytales. Countless stars twinkled in the endless night sky, rivaling the brilliant light of the moon as if to say they were finally free. 

All the while, Haurchefant watched her. The way her eyes lit up at the sudden clarity in the sky, the soft smile on her lips as she pointed out the different constellations, the pleasant lilt in her voice as she sang the song her mother had taught her to remember them by. Her hair had long since fallen from the braid she preferred to contain it, the gentle silver waves mingling in the snow that matched their color. 

So consumed was she in looking up into that night sky that he was sure she hadn’t noticed that she had taken his hand in hers of her own accord, using his fingers to point out each star that connected to another. For the first time since her arrival, Haurchefant could clearly see the person that was Carine Monteil. Before him was a carefree woman with hopes and dreams and life beyond being some fated hero. To see her living and enjoying the moment as it happened offered him a beacon of hope he hadn’t realized he had been searching for - a silver lining to every plight that this land might ever face. 

Hope incarnate. That is what she was in this very moment. 

“Do you hear that?” she asked, sitting up from their cozy hollow in the snow. Pulled from his thoughts, Haurchefant listened for whatever her ears had picked up on. Had she heard the silent padding of the snow wolves that prowled these wilds? Or mayhap it was nothing more than ice falling from a nearby tree? 

“Nay,” he shook his head, speaking a moment too soon as a distant voice coming from the direction of Camp Dragonhead called out. Carine was up in a flash, the guarded expression back in her eyes as her fingers twitched over the hilt of her dagger. He peered out, eyes scanning the distance until a small figure came into view. Immediately the lord relaxed and he reached out to calm the tense woman beside him. “‘Tis only master Alphinaud. Should we take off and hide?” he offered before earning her attention once again. “I could think of better things to keep us entertained while he searches for us, though I cannot promise he won’t happen upon…”

“Oh hush,” she barked, clearly not amused with his outrageous flirtation as she put some distance between them and dusted off the snow from her clothes. “Alphy! Over here!”

Haurchefant chuckled to himself, watching her walk away with that extra sway in her hips. He wondered if she knew she was doing it and then wondered if mayhap it was being done to entice him all that much more. Not that he needed more reason to watch her graceful movements, she was already a fine work of art in his eyes. 

All thought soon vanished from his mind as he watched Carine trot off ahead of him, eyes locked on her young friend without the slightest care of where she was heading. Quickly, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her from what would have been a nasty fall into a rocky crevice and into his body. A sharp scream pierced the night air, silenced by her face buried in his chest before her cautious eyes peeked over her shoulder. 

Carine released her breath in a heavy fog as she looked down, pressing herself closer to him in relief. He wouldn’t have let her go either had it not been for the cry of a young man reaching out, finding the edge of the pit far too late. No amount of agility or training could have saved Alphinaud as he tumbled into the darkness below, hands reaching out with nothing to grasp onto. 

It was all Haurchefant could do to hold the panicked woman in his arms from leaping over the edge herself to save the boy. He could only hold her for so long before she finally broke free, falling to her knees and looking over the edge while calling out Alphinaud’s name.

“Minfilia is going to kill me!” she muttered, tears streaming down her eyes as she searched for a way to scale the icy walls. “Do you have some rope?”

“Mayhap you might wish for a lantern as well? ‘Twould do you no good to get down there and not be able to see,” he calmly told her. Carine was past hearing reason though as she paced through the snow with her hands pulling at her hair. 

While she fretted and cried and paced, Haurchefant frowned and looked down into the darkness that had swallowed the young master whole. Many an unfortunate traveler had been caught in its unforgiving maw, mostly during the relentless blizzards that plagued the country. Most Coerthans knew to follow the road and not risk the lying shortcut. He should have been more cautious, should have warned them both…

And then he heard it. A soft sound coming from within the darkness that he hadn’t expected. At first, it seemed as though it were only an echo to Carine’s calls, but the pitch was off and it didn’t bounce quite the same. He had to focus just to be sure, but a few more moments and he was grinning from ear to ear. 

Carine struck his arm, tears freezing in her lashes as she glared at him in anger. “What is  _ wrong _ with you?” she shouted, her anxiety nearly turning into hysterics. “An emissary of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn just  _ died _ under your care! Have you no concern what might be the result?”

Without saying a word, he pressed his finger to her lips and held her still with his other hand. She fought him at first, eyes flashing dangerously at his familiar contact. He wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t already beyond reason with her fright over whatever consequence she might face once her people learned of young Alphinaud’s fate, but a sound that resembled her name called out from the cavern below. Carine froze, lilac eyes blown wide as she held her breath and listened for another call. 

“Alphinaud?” she called out again, perching herself precariously on the lip of the rocks slick with ice. “Are you hurt?”

It was impossible to make out any words with the echoes bouncing back and forth, so Haurchefant instructed her to remain while he went to fetch lights and fellow knights to assist them in helping the poor lordling out of the hole. It took no time at all to gather supplies and volunteers, a fact he was thankful for because Carine was already on her way down a narrow path she had found in her desperation to reach her friend. 

Carine wasted no time taking a lantern and leading the way, leaving Haurchefant with the task of coordinating the knights and following the daredevil of a woman into a pit few ever ventured in.

On a good day the journey would be dangerous. Icicles as long as he was tall hung menacingly over their heads. A single crack and the weight of just one of them would be enough to impale them from head to toe. Ice slicked against the stony wall, smoothing over any surface that would allow for a decent hold should the powdery snow under their feet give way and send them sliding. None of this seemed to concern the Warrior of Light, however. She fearlessly trekked ahead, lantern stretched out before her as she called into the darkness and followed the sounds of Alphinaud’s voice. 

He couldn’t help but appreciate the raw determination she had when facing this problem, but he couldn’t ignore the lingering sense that there was more to this fear than just losing an important member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. There was a panic there, and it was easy to see she wasn’t worried about what would happen to him should they find that something happened to Alphinaud, but that she was far more concerned about what might happen to  _ her. _ An odd thing, considering all she had done for them before. He wondered if mayhap it had something to do with her past as a bride, not that she seemed willing to offer more information on that particular subject. 

Once they had safely reached the bottom, Carine dashed out so quickly that Haurchefant nearly struggled to keep up. Had it not been for the bouncing lantern in her hand, he would have surely been lost to the darkness until she found the time to search him out. Thankfully, the young lord wasn’t too far away for the light finally stopped and a new shadow joined Carine’s on the wall. 

“Master Alphinaud! You are yet safe!” he exclaimed, watching in amusement as Carine worried over the lad like a mother tending her young. 

Alphinaud seemed perfectly fine, if not a little flustered as he kindly regarded the two of them. The grimoire in his hand was the testament as to how the young master appeared unharmed, the residual effects of aether used for magic still floating through the air. 

“It would appear so, yes,” he replied curtly. “Though the same could not be said for these fellows.”

Haurchefant followed the motion of his hands to the bones that littered the floor. Most were hidden under snow, from what he could feel under his boots, but there were still some that appeared recent and fresh. The Elezen walked over to the one Alphinaud took the most interest in - the one bearing the royal blue of Ishgard. 

“Who are all these people?” Carine asked in a whisper, almost as if she were afraid to disturb the dead. 

“Adventurers mostly,” Haurchefant replied. “A few merchants and citizens caught up in blizzards that found themselves off the road.”

She reached down and picked up a book from the snow, dusting it off and flipping through the pages. “And you don’t put up wards or signs to warn people?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “There are signs, but they do no good in the middle of a raging snow storm, my dear. And wards, though I have magic users within my walls, their talents primarily lie with healing those injured or defending the keep from dragons. Though we lose few to this, we lose more yet to the scalekin in our fight.”

It was clear that the Warrior of Light did not care for his answer, but he had given it honestly. No one liked sacrifices to be made, and mayhap there was a time where Ishgardians could have warded away the unknowing adventurer from this particular place, but this was war. Still, the hardened look on her face and the clear distance she placed between them as though he weren’t to be trusted sent an ache through his chest. 

“What’s this?” Alphinaud, oblivious to the tension that had grown between his comrades, picked something up from the corpse dressed in blue. Carine hissed at him, something about disturbing the dead, but even Haurchefant found himself curious at the find. He extended a hand to take the leather bound book and approached Carine for better lighting as his fingers traced the outline of the Holy See crest. He worked at the knot, the leather stiff from the cold until it finally came undone in his hands, opening up to reveal elegant handwriting and notes upon notes concerning the Haillenarte state of affairs. He frowned, wondering how something as valuable and important as this book was in proving Francel’s innocence came to be down here when the last page marked a revolution he hadn’t been expecting. 

“Haurchefant? What is it?” Carine asked, putting aside whatever qualm she had with him moments before to peer at the book with keen interest. 

“It seems, my friends, Inquisitor Guillaime is an imposter.”


	13. Conspicuously Inconspicuous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Simple, my dear,” he replied all too sweetly. “We use subterfuge.”_

Several days after their discovery, there had still been no move to expose the fraudulent Guillaime. Alphinaud had to remind Carine several times that they were still in Coerthas only as representatives of the Scions and not here to act as a form of judicial system within a land whose laws they knew not. Haurchefant agreed with the younger man, opting to wait for a reply from his correspondent in Foundation before they proceeded with a plan of action. 

As it were, no one outside of their small group and a handful of trusted Fortemps knights knew that there was an imposter running around in Coerthas. While this gave them the advantage of being able to watch the man more carefully, it limited them in being able to pursue information on him. Who he truly was and why he was posing as an inquisitor was yet a mystery to them, one that Carine was eager to learn. 

“Someone out there has to know who he really is,” she told Alphinaud as he studied his books. “A man like that has to have some connections.”

“And blatantly asking any person you happen to meet is bound to raise some brows,” he replied with an exasperated sigh. 

She sat with a huff, shaking her head and rubbing her temples. “What if more innocent people get hurt because this man is on a witch hunt? Am I to stand idly by while he targets the House of Fortemps next?”

“Of course not, but need I remind you to remain tact?” Alphinaud snapped his book shut. “We await the approval from whomever Lord Haurchefant is in contact and then we make our move. There are still a great many things we have yet to understand such as why he is weakening the trust between the High Houses of Ishgard.”

Carine shrugged, unable to counter his query. It was something that yet puzzled her. That night, her immediate thought had gone to this imposter being a heretic. She had been so sure based on his desire to bring House Haillenarte low, but Haurchefant and Alphinaud weren’t so quick to accuse him just yet. Given the trouble the Ishgardians faced against the Dravanians, it was just as likely, if not more so, that an overzealous citizen had taken it upon themselves to weed out the heretics. The passion and dedication the imposter had was proof enough to give them pause, as was the troubled expression he had given when learning that the Temple Knights had been infiltrated. 

Needless to say, the entire realization was a conundrum. 

“We needn’t wait much longer,” Lord Haurchefant announced as he walked into the room with Lord Drillemont in tow. Immediately, Carine and Alphinaud stood in respect, nodding to the older Elezen gentleman. “I have received news from Ishgard.”

Carine watched as he passed a scroll to the younger Elezen, his face beaming with satisfaction as he turned his own eyes to hers. As usual, she felt the familiar warmth rushing to her cheeks and ears when he looked at her in such a way, but she found it much easier to hold his gaze this time. She even smiled, surprising herself while her companion read through the letter. 

“You’ve managed to grant us an audience with the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights?” he asked in disbelief, voice barely above a whisper as he skimmed the page again. 

The Warrior of Light blinked in surprise, brow furrowing as she turned her attention to the letter. “He’s coming here? In three days?” 

Haurchefant nodded, “So it would seem, my dear, though he should be arriving any time tomorrow so long as the weather remains fair.”

This was monumental, and it didn’t take Carine looking at Alphinaud’s face to recognize that. It wasn’t speaking to the Archbishop directly, but from what she had gathered that was an impossible task in of itself. Speaking with the Lord Commander was a considerable leap from where they had been just days ago.

“I must inform Minfilia at once. She will likely wish to be here to greet him and speak on behalf of the Scions,” Alphinaud muttered to himself as he stalked out of the library without a backward glance. 

“Thank you, Haurchefant. You have made him very happy,” Carine chuckled, approaching the two men. “But I must ask, how is it you managed to arrange this meeting?”

“‘Twas simple. I did nothing and let your actions speak for you,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “As you helped Francel halt his trial that would have certainly ended in his life, he was more than happy to relay information to his family to speak on your behalf.”

“And I am grateful you were able to bring my attention to the heretics milling around Whitebrim Front,” Drillemont smiled. “Thanks to your efforts, we found a small band of them camped not far from Snowcloak. The least I could do was speak highly of you in my reports.”

“What of House Dzemael?” she inquired. She did not recall helping the other High House in any way, but she couldn’t fathom that she would get an audience with such an important citizen of Ishgard. 

“Worry not about them,” Haurchefant shook his head. “Three High Houses are more than enough to grant you audience with Ser Aymeric. Besides, there are other things I have need of you for.”

She raised a brow at that, looking between the two men with curiosity. “Such as?”

“My lady, the raid we conducted on the small camp of heretics lead us to more information about their cause. We found missives concerning a Lady Iceheart they all report to,” Drillemont began. “Most everything we found was difficult to decipher, coded in such a way to confuse or mislead anyone reading it. However, several of the men were recognized by knights under my command.”

“Meaning that these heretics are hiding in plain sight?” she asked. It wasn’t a comforting thought, not when they had just made their own eye-opening discovery. If they had spies within the walls of Camp Dragonhead, it would likely tip off whoever was on the other side. 

Drillemont nodded and sighed heavily. “Though the news is dire in that we do not know who we can trust, it has lead to another revelation. The heretics are meeting in houses of...ill-repute.”

“Ill-repute? I would assume you would have explored anyone’s home that might have it out for Ishgard,” Carine chuckled. 

The elder Elezen seemed to blush, his eyes looking down as he shook his head. “You misunderstand, my lady. I speak of the houses that cater to...unique tastes and base desires.”

“He means brothels and establishments that feature dancing girls,” Haurchefant finished for him without a hint of embarrassment. 

“Oh.” It was all Carine could get out as a vibrant pink tinted her cheeks. Drillemont looked just as embarrassed and flustered as she when she peeked at him from the corners of her eyes. “Why would they...meet in there?”

“Because what gods fearing man would be caught in such places?” Drillemont offered. “Such establishments are...empty of direct supervision by the Temple Knights as a result, leaving us to use our own men and women to determine who patrols there.”

She considered this information carefully. If the Temple Knights were not above infiltration, neither were the seasoned knights of the High Houses. If establishments like the ones being described were being watched by only those willing to step foot across their thresholds, then it would be easy enough for the heretics to have a comfortable place to plan and strategize without the proper authorities being none the wiser. It was genius really, and would take very little to execute. 

“So we raid one and question the people within,” she said with a curt nod and a wide grin. This was something she could work with and would give her a much needed break from the diplomacy that Alphinaud was trying to drill into her head. 

It was Haurchefant who destroyed all her hopes.

“Alas, that would give us away,” he shook his head. “Any chance of catching them again would disappear the moment we raided the first place. And who is to say that our first attempt would even be successful? What if they were meeting in another brothel in another settlement?”

Carine cursed under her breath and thought it out again. It was clear their options were limited. If guard rotations were suddenly changed, that would alert those that were in with the heretics that they had been suspected and ruin their chances of success. Adding more patrols would also raise suspicion. “I trust that you have an idea?”

The mischievous grin that spread across Lord Haurchefant’s face sent a wave of dread straight to her gut. She should have known better than to trust him with any idea,  _ especially _ given the way he eyed her as though she held the very answer to the question hanging in the air. 

“Simple, my dear,” he replied all too sweetly. “We use subterfuge.”

 

***

 

“No, no, no!” Carine groaned as she examined herself in the mirror. It was a disaster, a disgrace to the Twelve. What in all of Eorzea had possessed her to even  _ entertain _ his twisted line of thought in the first place? Surely the butterflies that seemed to stir in his presence weren’t enough to wear such a revealing outfit. 

“Is there a problem?” Alphinaud asked from outside her bedroom. 

_ You’re bloody right there’s a problem! _ She screamed mentally at the teenager, ears burning scarlet as she turned to get a better look at herself. Being the performer that she had always been, Carine was no stranger to showing off a little skin. This, however, was a whole new world.  _ I’m practically naked! _

“Oh come now, my dear,” Haurchefant purred from the other side of the changing screen that protected her from view. “I’m sure you look lovely as ever.”

Carine pinched between her brows, grumbling to herself as she tried to figure out the way the golden accents were supposed to sit on her body. The Thavnairian set that the Elezen lord had procured on short notice was far more complicated than she liked. Somehow the top and skirt were one piece, all cloth and metal while the sandals were straight leather laces she knew were meant to cross up her thighs. “It would help if I could get this thing figured out,” she told him. “Care to assist?”

She knew it was dangerous business asking him to join her behind the screen, but it was a risk she would have to take if she wanted to be successful tonight. Her job was simple; she needed to pass as a performer. Lord Haurchefant had used a contact of his to promote her in one of the establishments located within Whitebrim Front, given that was where they had solid proof heretics were gathering. She wasn’t there to pleasure men, or even pretend to seduce them, only to play her harp and listen in on whispered conversations to identify targets to track. In order to be believed, she needed to look like a woman that wore this particular garb often and exude confidence in it. 

Much easier said than executed. 

Carine felt the flutter of her heart as she heard Haurchefant stand from his perch on the other side of the screen. His boots scuffed against the rug placed at the foot of the bed and his shadow swept along the screen, alerting her to which side he was approaching. Quickly, she turned her back, one of her hands placed firmly on her chest to keep the top in place while the other held the fabric that needed to be tied together. 

“Er, care to tie this for me?” she asked, thankful that her face was hidden from him. Wordlessly he obliged, his long fingers gently taking the cloth from her own and tying it into a quick, expert knot that wouldn’t hurt should she lean against it. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied. She could hear the smile in his voice and a hint of longing as his hands dropped to his side. “Is there anything else you have need of me?”

“Actually,” she turned and motioned to herself. “Does this look right? There’s so much going on…”

Haurchefant examined her, his gaze flitting over every inch. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes lingered on her exposed shoulders, belly, or thighs as he did so, though when she caught him he quickly moved on. Occasionally he would have her adjust something here or there, but otherwise, he seemed to just enjoy looking. 

Carine let out a shaky breath and prayed he couldn’t hear the way her heart hammered within her chest as he continued his rather intimate examination. “Well?”

“As I said, my dear,” he leaned in, face just ilms from her own. “Lovely as ever.”

She couldn’t hide the blush as he looked into her eyes, nor could she find the courage to move away from him. All it took was one hungry look from the Elezen and she was under his spell, almost eager to forget their bargain from before. 

He, however, seemed to remember it effortlessly. Before she could close her eyes or lean forward to grant him the kiss she knew he sought, Haurchefant had already backed up and was eyeing her speculatively again. One of his long fingers tapped against the side of his face as he tilted his head this way and that, leaving the woman’s head reeling with the sudden change. 

“Er, did I mess something up?”

Haurchefant shook his head. “You’re missing the sandals.”

“Ah, yes, well I was hoping you had something less complicated than those things,” she stuttered, barefoot kicking out at the offending article. “Who needs that much leather lacing?”

Without so much as a warning, Haurchefant had her pushed down into the chair that her other clothes were currently draped over. She could barely voice a complaint when he dropped onto one knee before her, his deft hands already sliding on one of the sandals with practiced ease. Carine watched with fascination as he criss-crossed the leather bindings, starting at her ankles and working his way higher. Her skin pebbled at each gentle brush of his fingers, sending small shivers up her spine at the contact. Her long ears burned crimson when he pushed the panel of silk between her legs, exposing nearly her entire thigh up to her hip as he delicately worked higher. Just when she was sure her face was on fire, his nimble fingers tied the leather ends together much higher than she thought he would go. 

“‘Tis not too tight?” he asked, icy gaze still lingering on her exposed flesh. “Move your ankle and knee around to be sure before I do the other one.”

Carine did as she was told, thankful for the distraction from the faintly familiar stirrings low within her belly. It was hardly proper to be thinking of the way his fingers against her flesh made her feel, or just how high up on her leg his hands were resting. It would do best to  _ ignore _ such stirrings, if she were a smart woman. It was something easier said than done as the butterflies fluttered within her stomach when in such close proximity to the man.

_ Think, Carine. He’s a lord. A nobleman of Coerthas. He’s a respected knight for gods sake! And you...you’re the Warrior of Light. There’s no room for...this…  _ She smiled to herself and then at him while stretching her leg out, surprised that it wasn’t too tight or that it hindered her movement at all. “Question; how is it you know how to do this so well?” she asked, offering her other leg and ignoring the faint pangs of desire for his touch.

It was his turn now to turn various shades of red, his fingers fumbling a bit as he slid the sandal upon her foot. “I have had some...practice,” he replied honestly after a slight pause. Her gut twisted almost painfully at the implication, her mind immediately wondering how much experience he had and with whom. 

There was no reason for this to have bothered her. The flirting back and forth with the man was her chance to indulge on fancies she otherwise couldn’t. It was a means of temporary escape from the life that was being the Warrior of Light. As soon as she returns from this diplomatic expedition, it would all be nothing more than a pleasant memory to look back on fondly.

But if that were the case, why did it feel like a blade twisting in her chest?

“Ah...right. Of course!” she fidgeted with her fingers and waited for him to finish what he had started. She could feel the tension between them both in the air as questions she would rather not ask weighed heavily on the tip of her tongue.

Before her lips could betray her, a quick rap on the door interrupted her inner turmoil. Haurchefant stood immediately and strolled to the other side of the room and allowed an annoyed Alphinaud within. The young Elezen either couldn’t sense the strange air hanging in the room or he chose to outright ignore it as he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Carine who had followed the other man from behind her protective screen. Ears flamed Dalamud red and sapphire eyes quickly averted to the fireplace as the youth repeatedly cleared his throat, voice rising a notable octave. “I-ahem-take it you are quite ready to depart then?”

Carine grabbed the long cloak that had been draped on the edge of the bed and hurried to wrap it around her scantily clad body before the poor lad burned up on the spot. It was hard to resist the grin Haurchefant shot her way, the tension in her chest easing at the boy’s reaction. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied. “Remind me which building it is again?”

Lord Drillemont had allowed them a room within the local inn where they could rendezvous once she had gathered necessary intel within the local brothel. Given that she still had autonomy within Whitebrim and only a single run in with a heretic since coming to Coerthas, she was their best bet at finding out more about this Lady Iceheart and possibly learning the location of their lair. It was decided that she would use her linkpearl to remain in contact with Alphinaud in case the worst were to happen and she be discovered or recognized.

“When you leave the inn, take a right. Follow the street to the corner and then another right. Two buildings down on the left,” Haurchefant replied. “You’ll speak with Jiomant at the door. He’ll lead you to your dressing room where you can prepare.”

Carine nodded and reached for her harp, the very one her mother had saved up for and given her after the Garleans had retreated from Eorzea. She would have preferred to use any other instrument, but there hadn’t been enough time for them to find one that suited her well enough. Given its elegant design, it only added to her aesthetic as a wandering minstrel doted upon by the men and women of Eorzea.

Whispers of luck were exchanged as she stepped into the frigid night air. The Warrior of Light pulled her cloak tighter about her body and did her best to ignore the bitter cold of the snow against her toes as she followed Haurchefant’s instructions. With her quickened pace, it took only a few minutes to reach the establishment in question. 

It looked nothing out of the ordinary, save the lack of windows that most other buildings nearby had. It had the same stony structure as all Coerthan buildings had, the same lanterns to light the doorway that revealed two men with their arms crossed. The few people that crossed their path were leered at, usually making them skitter quickly on their journey to wherever they were going. Carine flexed her fingers and let out a breath, doing her best to calm her nerves as she put on a smile and approached them. 

“Well met, good sirs,” she regarded each one as warmly as possible. “I was instructed to meet with a Jiomant? Where might I find him?”

The two Elezens glowered, each one of them searching to see if she was some sort of imposter trying to get into their place of business. One of them, the younger of the two with hard, grey eyes and a sharp mouth was the first to speak. “And who’s asking?”

She smiled broader, flashing her teeth as she put a hand upon his arm. “Your boss paid good coin convincing me to come to this frozen wasteland. Mayhap I should tell him that I was refused shelter from the cold on base suspicion?”

“Ah! Carine!” a pleasant voice called from behind the men, both of which seemed to be put on edge at her bluff. It was clear in their eyes they weren’t convinced, not until another man she had never met before dressed in fine silks and an over large feathered hat addressed her. He was flamboyant and blasé at his approach. Long, golden hair hung around his handsome, smooth features and an elegant smile played at his lips. “You’re late.”

Picking up on her cue, the Warrior of Light side-eyed the guards, gifting them both a well deserved smirk as she moved past them and allowed the man to kiss her cheeks as though they were old friends. Thankful that she had been somewhat prepared thanks to the coaching Haurchefant had given her while she was dressing, Carine took his offered arm and followed him into the darkness of the establishment. 

“You must be Jiomant,” she said, keeping her eyes forward as he lead her away from the main room and through a side door. 

“That I am,” he replied. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I would love to stay and chat, but my clients demand my attention as they soon will be demanding yours. Rid yourself of the cloak and be ready in ten.”

Jiomant wasted no time showing her to the room where several other women were getting dressed and groomed for their performances. She hadn’t quite expected such an abrupt meeting, nor had she expected to be completely left to her own devices without so much as a point in the direction she needed to go. Instead, she found herself being stared down by several different women ranging from the numerous Elezen that called Coerthas home to the more exotic races such as the Miqo’te and Au’Ra.

Timidly she smiled at them, raising up a hand in welcome before they turned their attention back to their makeup or situating their costumes...well, what little costume they were wearing. Glad to be avoided by the naked or mostly naked women, Carine chose a quiet corner and slipped off her cloak. A small, nervous shiver drifted across her shoulders at the sudden weightlessness there, making her feel more exposed than she ever had before. It was a wonder anyone felt so comfortable in their own skin as to flaunt it the way these girls did. Judging by the way they casually conversed amongst one another, they were all  _ very _ comfortable.

She tried not to think about it, instead forcing her mind into the task at hand. Carine wasn’t entirely sure of who she should be looking for or what these heretics might be wearing that would give them away. Would they be comfortable enough to sit out in the open? Or would they choose a dark corner to conduct their business? It would be impossible to know until she was in the main room of the building.

As luck would have it, she didn’t have long to wait before someone was calling out her name and leading her out of the room. Harp clutched tightly to her chest, Carine steadied her breathing, keeping her eyes sharp for anything and everything. From what she could tell, all the corners were dark, casting shadows over the faces of the men and few women that sat back in the plush couches and chairs that lined the walls. A main stage jutted out through the middle of the floor sporting sturdy poles that some of the dancing girls were already twirling around. Several smaller stages were positioned strategically around the larger one, all of them occupied by women flirting with the hungry men at their feet.

Carine was thankful for the dim lighting that shrouded the majority of the room knowing full well that she couldn’t contain the surprise and fascination that came from the sights around her. It was all she could do not to stop and stare open-mouthed as she listened to the things coming out of the men’s mouths as they watched and paid to see the girls shed their clothes in time to the music coming from the Orchestrion along the far wall. Her leader wasn’t about to let her pause either, for he kept ushering her in the direction of another room, this one with guards outside its door. 

“I think there has been some mistake…” she stuttered, trying to pull herself back. “I was meant to perform…”

“Aye, for a private party,” he grumbled, pushing his way through the beads that hung in the doorframe and pulling her along behind. 

This was bad. She was supposed to be in the main hall where she could keep an eye and ear out for anyone that might be a heretic. A private party was never mentioned to her and kept her decidedly away from furthering her investigation. “Apologies, but if I were to be able to speak with Jiomant…”

“He is the one that told me to bring you here. Said you had the experience with private parties, or are calling him a liar?” The warning growl in his voice made her shut her mouth and willingly obey as he showed her to where she would be performing. 

Unlike the main hall, this was far more intimate. There were several fluffy couches overly stuffed with pillows and cushions surrounding the walls. A small, raised platform stood in the center of the room, sporting the same pole she had seen before, though this time without a dancing girl to twirl about it. 

For the moment, after the man that brought her here left, Carine was completely and utterly alone. This had not been a part of the plan. She walked around the room and checked to make sure there was no one hiding in the shadows before breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alphy? We might have a problem,” she said quietly, looking around the room with her finger pressed to her linkpearl.

_ “How do you mean?” _ he replied, a note of concern in his voice. 

“I’m in a back room as entertainment for a private party…” she whispered quickly, breath hitching as she heard footsteps approaching. “I have to go, someone’s coming.”

Smoothing out her navy silks, Carine straightened her shoulders and turned to smile warmly at the small group of men entering the room with several of the dancing girls in tow. They paid her little mind as they went to their seats, whispering amongst themselves. A young, pretty Hyur girl dressed in a tightly laced bodice, walked in with a tray of drinks to pass out amongst the men talking. They barely looked up as they tipped the girl, far more interested in whatever conversation was to be had. 

At first glance, there was nothing remotely noteworthy of the men. They were all Elezen, tall and lean such as the race was, and almost infuriatingly prideful from what Carine could fathom from where she was standing. Two of them appeared to be knights under House Durendaire, given the crest on their clothes. Two more were dressed in typical Coerthan fashion, which is to say dull and grey and dreary. The fifth man seemed much better off, a nobleman if Carine had to take a guess. His clothes, while still grey and drab, were tailored well to fit his tall figure. Gold clasps hung at his ears and his brown hair was slicked back in a stylish manner. 

It wasn’t the way they looked or how they all seemed to fit together that drew her in. In fact, there was so little odd about the group that Carine was tempted to just call it a night and see if they could start again. No, what was strange was the way they paid no mind to the women they had brought in with them. Those same girls were now sitting quite comfortably on another couch on the other side of the room, chatting amongst themselves as they sipped on their wine from their glasses. 

Carine had precious little experience in such places. She knew they existed and their purpose, but that was the extent of her knowledge. Violaine had been inside one before on a dare from one of their old friends that lived in Ul’dah, and had come out blushing from one pointed ear to the other. From what she could remember of what her sister had described within, it matched with her own current experience. Men were practically drooling over these women, tossing them money as though they had it to burn and begging for even just a slight acknowledgement their way. 

But not these men. 

“Excuse me? Hello? Are you ill?” A finger jabbed into her shoulder, snapping Carine out of her train of thought. Blinking in surprise, she found herself looking down on a dark Miqo’te whose brown hair bounced in delightful curls around her ears. “Ah, she does hear! Good. I thought you were the music this evening or is that pretty harp of yours just for show?”

“Par-? Oh! Yes, of course. Apologies,” Carine stuttered out and gave a little bow. Her hiccup seemed to go unnoticed by the men she was now sure she was supposed to be keeping an eye on. Was Jiomant familiar with who these people were? Or perhaps just suspect of them and their unusual habits? Hells, maybe this was normal behavior for such people in such places, what did she know?

More than a little disgruntled, Carine took her place as central to the men and women and began strumming her harp into a gentle and sensuous melody. It was difficult to concentrate on the words of the song and listen in to the conversation at hand, and more than once she had nearly been caught staring too hard at the nobleman. 

_ You have to be subtle, Carine, _ she warned herself as the last notes faded from the first song.  _ Not that sitting here in what can be barely classified as a dress subtle… _

“Ahem,” a voice cleared his throat and brought her attention to the nobleman that was now standing at her side with a peculiar grin. “If I and my comrades may request a song?”

“Of course, my lord,” she replied dutifully, making sure to flutter her lashes.  _ Twelve, if Nero could see me now… _ “I have traveled and acquired several songs from across Eorzea, you have but to ask and I shall play if ‘tis known to me.”

The man smirked, his gaze roaming over her exposed flesh appreciatively before leaning against the wall. “Would you happen to know Oblivion?”

“Apologies, my lord. I’m afraid I don’t-” Carine began until a familiar pain laced through her head and exploded from behind her eyes. The world shifted, changed, contracted and expanded in ways that nearly made her ill. 

_ No! No, no, no! Not here, not now! _ She cried, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. It was futile, the power of the Echo came and went as it pleased and nothing would stop it until it had run its course. All she could do was submit and wait, letting the vision shoot her across Coerthas to some alcove. Tall, ice covered stone facades surrounded her on three sides when the vision finally settled over her. Long, sharp spears of ice hung overhead, sunlight shining off their glassy surface. 

Carine turned, as best as the vision would allow, to search for what the Echo wanted her to find. To her surprise, there was a woman standing there with long silver hair blowing in the breeze. Her back was to her, keeping her face from view, but that gave the Warrior of Light a glimpse of the men that were speaking to this mystery woman. 

Inquisitor Guillaime and the five men currently in that room with her in Whitebrim Front. 

_ “There are to be several in the shipments this week. House Fortemps being the lead supplier,” _ Guillaime told her.  _ “Brought about from the influence of Lord Haurchefant’s unusual visitors, no doubt.” _

_ “We stick to our schedule,” _ the woman replied, her voice cool and collected like the ice hanging from the jagged cliff above them.  _ “Any more and we shall arise suspicion.” _

_ “They are already suspicious, my Lady,” _ he went on.  _ “Ever since they discovered that Taussault was -” _

_ “Taussault was sloppy and allowed himself to be caught. The Fury passed her judgement.” _ Her voice was sharp, cutting like the sharp wind that whipped about her coat.  _ “As for these visitors. Surely you are aware of who they are by now?” _

Carine held her breath as the woman turned around, heart stopping within her chest as the palest grey eyes she had ever seen seemed to meet her own. Frozen by the vision, there was little she could do but be captivated, pulled in by a force that somehow seemed familiar though she knew not who this person was. 

_ “My Lady?” _

The pale woman didn’t turn to look back in his direction, rather she stood stoically just staring at Carine as though she knew she were there as she replied,  _ “She is no ordinary adventurer. ‘Tis none other than the Warrior of Light and an associate of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.” _

Guillaime’s eyes went wide as he took a step back in surprise.  _ “But Lady Iceheart, shouldn’t we dispose-” _

Iceheart whipped around so quickly, eyes narrowed into fine slits as she pointed at the man.  _ “I would not engage her if I were you. To do so would be foolish. Nay, leave her to me.” _

As quickly as the vision had unsettled her, the Echo pulled Carine back to the present. Her head exploded with pain, making her wince as she fell to one knee to get her bearings. Heart pounding with fear, she forced herself back to her feet, pushing past the men that were now surrounding her with looks of concern on their pointed faces. Even the women had put down their glasses to watch as she stumbled out of the room, harp firmly in her grip. 

“They know about us,” she said, pressing against the linkpearl in her ear. “The heretics know. Guillaime is among them.”

It was several minutes later, after Carine had stumbled into the snowy street that Alphinaud finally replied,  _ “Are you sure?” _

She grunted, wrinkling her nose in frustration at being questioned. “If the vision the Echo showed me is of any indication, yes I am sure. We need to find him and bring him in at once. He knows where Lady-”

Carine had been so focused in rushing from the building that she had forgotten her cloak to protect her from the harsh wind slicing against her flesh. The cold distracted her from her surroundings and the night that had fallen upon the land, cloaking it with shadows. As she was speaking, her entire body collided with another, larger one, sending her to the ground with a heavy thud. The midnight colored silk fell to the side, exposing both of her entire legs to the snow beneath her and brought a hiss to her lips at the chill. 

“Are you alright?” a deep, gentle voice sounded from above. Carine looked up to see a gloved hand held out for her to take and followed it to the royal blue uniform trimmed in gold. A handsome face glanced down at her with a look of kindness and concern as he offered help. Graciously she accepted his hand and stood, dusting the snow from her outfit. 

“Thank you,” she flashed him a smile, not missing the way his face changed as he beheld her fully. Dark hair fell in front of his widened eyes, giving the man almost a boyish innocence as his mouth opened and closed with words lost to him. However, there was little time to waste as she rushed past him and the lone companion at his side, leaving the two of them standing there dumbfounded in the darkened street. 

Carine burst through the door to her room, making everyone jump in surprise at her sudden entrance. “Do we know where Guillaime is?” she asked, placing her harp in a corner and rushing behind the screen. At this point, she didn’t care that both Alphinaud and Haurchefant were here as she shed the complicated outfit from her body and fumbled with the more comfortable,  _ warm _ clothing she had been wearing earlier. 

“Word from earlier today is he was conducting a trial near Snowcloak this evening,” Haurchefant replied. “Is there aught amiss?”

“Yes. We need to find him and stop him from sentencing another poor soul to the fate of the Fury,” Carine stated as she pulled her shirt over her head. “Alphinaud? Fetch my bow. Something tells me he’s not going to be alone where we’re going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, nothing like a half naked Carine tripping over *cough cough* in the middle of the street after playing up as some sort of slutty songstress thanks to Haurchefant's imagination and...ability to procure strangely erotic clothing at a moment's notice xD


	14. The Heretic Among Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It matters not how you suffered in comparison to others, Carine,” he told her, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze so she could understand the sincerity as he spoke. “It only matters that you did.”_

Haurchefant volunteered to ride ahead with the Warrior of Light while Alphinaud went to fetch Lord Drillemont and his men. Though he admired the dedication and determination the woman exuded in wishing to protect the innocent, she didn’t know the perilous cliffs of Snowcloak and the numerous caverns that could hide any number of people like he did. While he was quick to tell of her heroic deeds, one thing ever remained consistent in the telling - the Warrior of Light rushed in without a second thought to her own safety. If there was only one thing he could contribute to her tales, it would be that at least one person was there to watch over her and warn her of the dangers she knew not.

“Hold, Carine,” he called out in warning, pulling on the reins of his Chocobo and praying to the Fury she did the same. 

Narrowed, amethyst eyes turned on him and then back on the path ahead that lead through the treacherous stony cliffs. “We’re almost there then?” she asked, reaching around to grab her bow. “I can lead the way, anyone I miss you can surely finish off?”

He shook his head and pointed up the jagged surface. “And what of the archers or casters that may be hiding in the shadows above us?”

She followed his gaze and frowned. He noticed, with relief, the way her grip on her weapon relaxed as she realized he spoke true until eventually she strung it back over her shoulder. Carine was still more than irritated, itching for a chance to unleash her arrows upon the man that had already caused so much grief during his time in Coerthas, but at least she was sensible enough to wait for support. 

Haurchefant couldn’t guess how long it would take for Drillemont to acquire the men he needed on a whim for bringing the imposter in, so he dismounted and lead his Chocobo to a hollowed area that would protect them from the worst of the wind. Carine followed wordlessly behind him, arms wrapped tightly around her chest for warmth. 

“Care to share my cloak with me? Much warmer at my side, I assure you,” he offered in his usual, lilted manner. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched her roll her eyes and pull her own cloak tighter around her. 

“I’m fine.” No matter how much confidence she radiated, the statement was still a lie and he knew it.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and leaned against the wall. 

He remembered the first taste of eternal winter shortly after the Calamity. Coerthas had always had a milder climate than the other city-states and their winters harsh, but nothing compared for the constant state of cold that was his homeland now. Many people had suffered as a normal winter stretched well into spring and then into summer. Farmers lost their crops, families began to starve, the Brume in Foundation had become more populated with the desperate. 

As such, adventurers were harder to come by though they were desperately needed. Few that were used to the warmth of the sun’s rays from any of the southern city-states could bear to stay more than a few days in the biting cold. Fewer still seemed happy to accept their meager pay for helping the locals and their dismal, callous attitudes. By some miracle, Carine and Alphinaud had not only faced harsh speculation, but they maintained an air of cheer and warmth about them in the face of adversary. Every day, the Warrior of Light would wake up before dawn and dedicated herself to the art of sword and shield, already nearly surpassing him, and then spend the rest of her time aiding those that needed it with little complaint. 

Even now, though her jaw trembled and body shook, Carine stood strong and resilient with her mind focused on the people she would be helping by ridding them of this nuisance. Her eyes searched for the help that was on its way, jaw set with the promise if they didn’t show up soon, she would go in regardless. 

How he  _ admired _ her. 

He worried though, just as he admired. This was a woman whose task it was to keep the world safe. It was a burden even he dared not imagine to bear, though he had always longed to be a knight. Protecting one’s homeland and family and friends was small in comparison to everyone, and yet that was precisely what she did with beauty and grace. He longed to know what drove her, what motivated her into continuing. She wasn’t the type to seek honor and glory, and given what he knew she was being paid by the citizens of Coerthas, she wasn’t in it for the money. The blush in her cheeks as he acknowledged who she was for the first time indicated that fame wasn’t something that interested her either. Nay, what  _ did _ possess her to fight for those she knew not?

Curiosity eventually won out and he ignored her trepidation as he draped his arms around her and enveloped her in a light embrace beneath his cloak. Her body trembled against him, vibrating with the cold that had crept through the layers as he tried to pull her closer and offer what warmth he could. 

“What are you doing?” she grumbled, stiffening and trying to keep what distance she could between them. 

“Keeping you warm while we wait. ‘Twould do no good if you were frozen by the time our comrades arrive, my dear,” he replied.

If she wanted to argue, he couldn’t tell for she kept her mouth closed and submitted. Gradually she relaxed, taking smaller steps to lessen the distance between them until she was flush against his side and her head resting on his shoulder. The faint smell of her drifted to him, a perpetual scent of lavender and greenery from the Twelveswood, he liked to imagine. It was unfamiliar, yet comforting all the same, and he found himself hugging her closer. 

“Question,” he began, curiosity weighing on his tongue. “Why is it you fight?”

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” she chuckled, though there was an air of hesitation. 

“I believe we have time for the long one,” he said. “But I will leave that decision to you.”

She was quiet for several minutes, long enough to make him wonder if she would answer him at all. Finally she said, “I fight for those that cannot fight for themselves. I protect those that need my protection. I free those that haven’t the means to free themselves.” Her voice wavered with emotion and he found himself clutching her tighter in reassurance. 

“Do you know what happens to those that are enthralled by Primals?” she asked him, looking up with glistening eyes. Before he could give her an answer, she was already speaking again. “They can’t be helped. They become these husks that only live to serve the eikon that enslaved them. The Scions…” she paused as a flash of anger whipped at her words, and took a deep breath. “They strive to make sure no one becomes enthralled because the outcome is always death.

“And that doesn’t even cover the horrors of what the Draft put Eorzean women through,” she went on without delay. “Families were separated, women torn from their lovers and children to be raped in the name of providing heirs to an empire that wishes to enslave us all. I couldn’t sit by and allow them to suffer when I had the means to free them from such a prison.”

Haurchefant’s heart sank at the venom in her words and the implication behind them. He knew nothing of whom she had been married to, but he knew of the atrocities suffered by those married to Garleans. How much had she undergone before finally being able to stand against them? “Words cannot do what you suffered justice, but I offer my apologies all the same,” he sighed, hugging her closer in comfort. 

“Ha! I suffered nothing compared to others,” she laughed, but made no move to pull away. “I lived in the lap of luxury, afforded excursions beyond the wall that trapped in the pleas for help from women who were married to lower ranked men.”

“It matters not how you suffered in comparison to others, Carine,” he told her, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze so she could understand the sincerity as he spoke. “It only matters that you did.”

Her eyes widened, glistening as emotion overcame her. Gods, she was beautiful in this moment with all her walls down. Peering into the lilac depths, he could see the insecurity, the need for her struggle to be acknowledged. A warrior she may be, but a woman with needs and desires and hope was what she was first and foremost. If he needed to push her to see that, he would gladly do so.

Hair the color of fresh fallen snow on a moonlit night blew gently over her face and across parted lips as they stared at each other, breath fogging between them. Gently, he tucked the offending strand behind her ear, curling it in his fingers while smiling down at her. Haurchefant halfway expected her to turn away or return her head to leaning against his shoulder, but there was that light back in her eyes that he had just briefly witnessed the day of their snowball fight with the children. The same one that had enticed him to drawing her closer... 

The moment was short lived as the sounds of approach came from the road. Before he could stop her, Carine had already effectively moved from his grasp, putting a familiar yet respectable distance between them. Cold air swept in, stealing some of the warmth they had shared all too briefly before he was able to snap his cloak shut and trap what little of her scent remained as he followed behind the eager Elezen.

 

Carine wasted no time getting to the road, taking deep breaths of the cold air to quell the pounding of her heart. She hadn’t anticipated the honesty that Haurchefant had granted her, nor the sincerity in acknowledging everything she had gone through up to now. Surely he wouldn’t think she had suffered at all once he learned that she had truly lived in the lap of luxury while other women endured horrid cruelty. Still...his words of support offered greater comfort than he could ever know.

“Ah there you are!” Drillemont waved at them, pulling his steed to a halt. “You see, Master Alphinaud? They waited just as I said they would!”

The look of shock and disbelief on the young Elezen’s face was more than worth the wait. “The night is still young,” he replied.

“Oh hush you, I can control myself when I need to,” she jested, turning her head towards the path that would lead them to Guillaime and whatever support he had hidden in the shadows. “Though might I encourage that we hurry? Who knows how long his trials last or how often they end in the Fury’s judgement.”

This time no one stopped her as she took the lead, trotting down the icy path that took them further in. A desperate plea echoed through the cavern, quickening her steps in time to see a young woman tossed onto the snow. 

“By all that is holy, I swear I have never questioned the teachings of Halone!” A woman shouted as she was pushed to her knees in the snow. “I have done no wrong!”

The imposter circled around her, his hand atop her head in almost a gentle, forgiving manner, like a father reluctant to punish a child. “There, there. If your words are true, you should find peace in knowing you will experience everlasting joys within her halls,” he cooed, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “But if not, your true self will be made apparent and slain on the spot to send you to the Void.”

“Inquisitor!” Lord Drillemont cried just as the blade was raised to the woman’s neck. “Stop this madness at once and release the maid!”

Eyes flashed in anger in their direction as the man turned to face them before a look of surprise took over the brief hint of rage. He made no move to release the woman, though he did take his blade from her throat. “Lord Drillemont, Lord Haurchefant - what is the meaning of this interruption?” he asked, voice cool and collected. “And I see you brought the suspected heretics with you as well. Saves me the trouble of collecting them myself.”

“We aren’t here bringing you heretics to pass judgement,” Haurchefant replied in kind. “But we did come to stop you from spilling more innocent blood.”

“Are you unaware that I am in the midst of a very  _ important _ interrogation at present? Can this talk not wait until I have finished?” he growled in warning, pulling the woman’s hair until she cried out. Carine grasped at her bow, taking it from her back and training an arrow in his direction, almost daring him to make a move.

“I daresay your interrogation of this woman is over, Inquisitor,” she told him, ice hanging to her every word. “Or should I call you imposter?”

Realization dawned upon him then, but like the imposing Temple Knight from before, he was not eager to drop the facade. “I know not of which you speak, outsider.”

“Silence! I name thee heretic! A traitor to Ishgard, murderer of innocents, and a betrayer to your kith and kin!” Drillemont barked, motioning with his arms for his knights to rush forward and arrest him.

Surprisingly, the inquisitor allowed two men to grab his arms, making no immediate movement against them as he stared down the lord of Whitebrim Front. “Ah...grave accusations coming from a man who cannot claim to be clear of conscious such as I,” he smiled menacingly at him before looking to Haurchefant. “You speak to me of Ishgardian innocents while your own hands are blackened with the blood of the people that dare question your  _ Ishgard’s _ crusade. Every last one of you is deafened by dogma, killing without question thanks to your archbishop and his lies.” He then turned his attention to Carine, eyes narrowing into thin slits as he regarded her like she was nothing but scum beneath his boot. “I know you will not hear me, Warrior of Light. Try as I might to tell my Lady you will not listen to reason and truth, she orders me not to harm you. And I would obey, if it were not for the retribution you so desire. Come, foreigner. Let us see if your Light and Ishgardian steel can withstand the might of Dravanian fang and claw!”

With one quick movement, the Guillaime imposter pulled his arm from the grip of one of the arresting knights and reached for his own neck. He was so quick, Carine hadn’t time to loose an arrow to stop him before he pulled on the draconic rosary hanging under his clothes. He dropped to his knees, a painful howl erupting from his lips as his body began to shift and change before their very eyes. His tall, lean figure grew taller, bulkier, as scales burst forth from his flesh and black, leathery wings sprouted from his back. The scream from his lips deepened into a deafening roar echoed by several more around the cavern. 

He wasn’t alone.

“Seven bloody Hells,” Alphinaud whispered, taking several steps backwards while reaching for his book. “What  _ is _ this?”

Carine shook her head, the color draining from her face. She had faced a great many foes before, but none of them were men that had transformed into frightening beasts before her very eyes. She faltered, lowering her bow just an ilm when Drillemont put a protective hand on her arm. “Stand your ground. ‘Tis but an illusion.”

She wanted to argue that illusions didn’t howl in pain as their bodies were practically ripped apart in that manner, or that she had seen plenty of illusion magic in her day and never once could someone accomplish this, but Haurchefant pulled out his sword and readied his shield. If he and the others were convinced this was nothing to fear, then she shouldn’t be either. 

Without another moment’s hesitation, Carine unleashed her arrow into the shoulder of the beast that had once been a man. He growled, looking down at the offending protrusion and grasped the shaft in his clawed hand. It broke like a small twig under pressure and didn’t slow him an ilm as he surged forward into the other knight, ripping his claws into his chest and tossing him to the ground. 

At once, Drillemont and Haurchefant rushed forward, their voices echoing off the walls in their initiation of battle. Scalekin of various shapes and sizes landed before them, blocking their path from the largest of them all - the one whose eyes were set firmly upon Carine. She took a deep breath, centering herself and searching for the familiar Light of the blessing bestowed upon her by Hydaelyn.

And found that it was completely absent. 

She opened her eyes just in time to avoid the bone-crushing blow. Carine dodged, rolling on the ground just out of reach, taking aim as she sat up and shot three more arrows. Each one hit their mark, their pointed edges burying into the beasts flesh though doing little damage. 

_ How in Seven Hells do they beat these things down? _ She wondered to herself as she looked around the battlefield. It was madness and chaos, bloodshed and violence as the knights and their lords swung their swords and brandished their shields. Surprisingly, the men appeared to have the upper hand as their steel sliced through the tough scales, bringing forth rivets of blood on to the white snow below. 

Again she was forced to duck and roll, avoiding a swipe of a thick tail this time, as she searched for the man that had been slain just moments before. He was out of her reach, his lifeless eyes fixated in a permanent look of surprise on the other side of the stone she hid behind. Her fingers reached for her hidden blades, pulling them out just at the nick of time to thrust them into the muscled arms of the dragon thing that was currently attacking her. 

With him distracted, the Warrior of Light was able to rush forward and pull the sword from the man’s scabbard and set to work on detaching his shield. She wasn’t quite fast enough, for a large shadow towered over her in the moonlight, warning her of the impending danger far too late. The dragon backhanded her across the face the moment she turned around, splitting her cheek and sent her flying against the stone as though she weighed nothing more than a doll. Her head hit the wall with an audible crack, blackening her vision as her body slumped to the ground. Stars danced behind her eyes and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as she rolled over and willed herself to stand and fight. 

The sword was out of range, her daggers were still lodged in the trunks of his arms, and her bow was practically useless without the special arrows Cid made, leaving her all but defenseless. She spat, wincing at the pain in her head as her blood dripped into the snow below when an arm wrapped around her and pulled her to her feet. 

“Are you alright?” Haurchefant’s face was full of worry as he looked at her cheek and then into her eyes. 

Carine nodded, though she didn’t quite trust herself to speak for fear she would be sick from the ache in her head. She pulled her arm back and pointed to the sword that was now beneath the towering dragon. “I just need that.”

Haurchefant looked at the sword and then back at her and nodded, a plan already forming in his eyes. With all the confidence of a well trained knight, he strolled casually towards the beast and flashed his sword. Angered by his show of courage and bravery, the dragon grew disinterested in the woman swaying on her feet as she stumbled through the snow and fumbled for the hilt of the weapon. 

Breathing heavily, she knew she couldn’t fight like this, not without putting everyone and herself in danger. Alphinaud was too far away for her to benefit from any healing spells he had, and he was too concentrated on keeping Lord Drillemont alive as he cleaved his way through two of the scalekin. Her stomach rolled and more light continued to dance in her eyes, blinding her from the rest of the battle as she summoned forth what little healing magic she knew and touched her fingers to her temple. 

The cooling sensation, like water running over her skin on a hot day, cleared her mind and chased away the ache until it was little more than a dull throb that could be easily ignored. She blinked and smiled when the nausea didn’t return, eager to get back into the heat of the battle when she heard Haurchefant cry, “Look out!”

Her eyes raised just in time to see him put himself between her and the dragon, taking the full force of a clawed swipe at his arm. Dark liquid stained the chainmail there, jagged pieces of the tiny silver rings showing that they were little match against the claws of dragonkind. Stomach sinking, Carine rose from where she stood and charged forth with nothing more than a sword in hand. 

If she thought Haurchefant would fall back after such a dire wound, she was surely mistaken as his war cry sounded with her own. Together they charged forward, slicing and slashing at the beast with a fury unmatched by anyone else. Where one withdrew to prepare another attack, the other was already in full swing. Where Haurchefant used his shield to face each blow, Carine relied on her agility to dip and dodge and attack. Soon arrows were piercing their foe’s hide, and one quick glance let them know that the other dragons had been defeated. 

They were winning. 

With one final yell, Carine plunged her blade into the belly of the beast. As his blood spilled out from his wound, his body began to change again, turning him back into the man he had been before. “I-you...defeated me?”

“All in a day’s work,” Carine panted her reply, glaring down at him. “Now, tell me where Lady Iceheart is.”

He laughed, blood speckling his lips as he shook his head. “Oh, you won’t find her, Warrior. She will find  _ you. _ ”

“You lie here dying, heretic. Choose your words carefully for they will be your last,” Drillemont stomped towards him, putting the tip of his blade to the man’s throat. “Answer her question.”

“Blood has been repaid with blood and for that, I am content,” he choked, head resting back against the snow. “My only regret is that you yet live,” he pointed at Carine. “But your end is nigh, Warrior. Lady Iceheart has taken notice of your presence. ‘Tis only a matter of time…”

Carine reached down, grabbing him by the neck and giving him a firm shake. “Tell me where she is, damn you!” she shouted, smacking at his face. The man did not respond as his wounds claimed him, but that did not stop her from trying to get answers. 

She needed to know who Lady Iceheart was, how she knew who she was, and what in Seven Hells she was planning. More than that, she wanted to know how they had prevented her from using her Blessing of Light to defeat them, how they had managed to suppress it as though they had been given divine power over her. It was a dire thought, one she dared not voice aloud in present company as strong hands gripped at her shoulders.

“He is gone, my lady. Defiant to the last,” Drillemont told her. “Come, leave his body for the crows. We have wounded to attend and dead to bury.”

The Warrior of Light’s shoulders dropped, as did her grip on the body of the dead man in her hands. There was no use screaming at him for answers anymore, not when there were people lying wounded around them. Bandages and injury kits were procured from the Chocobo saddlebags and given out to those that were able. Alphinaud, being more adept at healing than Carine believed she would ever be, looked after those with the gravest of injuries while she helped bandage those that couldn’t do it themselves. 

When the last of the injured were attended to and the two that had succumbed to their injuries were piled onto a cart pulled by the larger draft Chocobos, Carine allowed herself to be helped onto Buck. He sweetly ‘kweh’d at her, nudging her cheek with his beak before following the others back to Whitebrim Front. She aligned herself behind Lord Haurchefant, watching him carefully as she noticed the way he swayed in the saddle. He had claimed to be well and that he needed no medical attention, that the cut on his arm was little more than a scratch, but she wasn’t so sure. 

She urged Buck forward to walk beside him, hoping he might steal a glance her way, but he didn’t. Rather, he looked forward with complete and utter focus. She noticed the sickly white of his skin brought out by the pale moonlight that shone overhead and the dark bags under his eyes as he stared solemnly ahead. 

He continued to remain quiet, even retiring to his room within the castle in Whitebrim without so much as a nod. Worry crept into her heart as she watched him grip the corner before disappearing down the hall, prompting her to seek out medical supplies and follow him. Just as she suspected, Haurchefant was standing in the middle of the room struggling to remove his armor, his shield arm hanging useless at his side. 

“Need someone to take a look at that?” Carine asked, leaning against the door frame and peering at him with interest. It was still too dark in the room to make out much more than the outline of the man, but the grunts of pain and frustration told her everything she needed to know. 

“Why, Carine, I did not expect you to come visit me at such a late hour,” he replied, his cheerfulness forced through gritted teeth. “Have you come to warm yourself at my hearth?”

She rolled her eyes and walked past him, reaching for logs to place on the dying embers of a neglected fireplace. “Why didn’t you ask Alphinaud to heal you? He would have.”

“My dear, I’m fine,” he assured her, abandoning the task of removing his clothes. “My wounds are nothing compared to those he healed for others. And the lad seemed quite weary after using so much magic. I wouldn’t impose upon him for nothing more than a scratch.”

As the flames began to rise, giving off a warm glow, Carine stood and turned to him with her hands on her hips. “Let’s see it then. Come on. Take off your armor and show me your arm.”

Haurchefant’s eyes widened in surprise at her direct nature, taking a step back with caution. “There’s really no need…”

“Oh come now, Haurchefant,” she smiled sweetly and fluttered her eyes while brushing her fingers against the plate on his chest. “Do you always turn down a woman interested in getting you out of your clothes?”

“I-well...if you insist,” he stuttered, eyes looking down. 

She waited patiently, watching from the corners of her eyes as he tried to pull the heavy mail from his body, hissing every so often as the movement jarred his injured arm. It impressed her the lengths he would go through to keep up the charade. As badly as she wanted to reach out and help him, she resisted in favor of warming herself by the fire. 

“Ah, Carine? Mayhap I took a blow a little too hard…” Haurchefant said sheepishly as his good arm fell heavily to his side. “Would you care to help?”

She nodded with a knowing smile, helping him from his armor and the shirt beneath until he was bare-chested before her. He was...surprisingly well toned, not that it  _ should _ have been considering his training. His chest was wide, core strong and taut, and it all lead to a slight narrowing just before his hips... Her eyes snapped back up just as she realized they had been trailing over his body far too appreciatively. Ignoring the blush creeping up her ears, she examined his arm and winced at the sight.

Jagged, torn flesh stained with fresh blood now dripping from his arm awaited her. There was no bone that she could see, but even in this low light she knew the wound was deep. Guilt ripped at her heart and gut as she realized that this had been meant for her. Alas, she had been distracted and disoriented in the heat of battle and it had been him to come to her rescue rather than leaving her to her fate. Hot tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she grimaced, turning away from him to find a bowl and get some fresh water to clean the wound as best she could. 

“‘Tis really nothing. I have suffered much worse,” Haurchefant assured her, but he made no move to move from where he was standing. 

Wordlessly Carine pulled one of the wooden chairs from the table and beckoned for him to sit while she poured water from a pitcher into one of the wooden bowls she had brought with her. To her displeasure, there were no soft cloths to use to wipe around the torn edges of his flesh, so she resorted to ripping at the sleeves of her own shirt, tossing the scraps into the water before making a point to rummage through a cabinet for anything resembling alcohol. 

When it was clear that there were no spirits to be found, she returned to his side and knelt beside him, eyes focused on the wound as she reached for a cloth. His arm flexed and he hissed at the contact, but he made no move to get away from her as she cleaned the wound to get a better look at the damage. 

_ You may have suffered worse, but you hadn’t suffered because of my inability to fight, _ she thought to herself as her guilt continued to choke her. “You need stitching.”

Haurchefant looked down at his arm and frowned. “Mayhap you’re right. Are you capable?”

“Aye, but without some spirits, this might hurt,” she glanced up at him. He simply shrugged and allowed her to look through the kit that she had taken when following him. 

Again silence hung in the air between them as she meticulously threaded his skin together. Periodically she would let what healing magic she had left within her flow to staunch the bleeding or rid the site of bacteria that could cause infection. All the while he sat still as he could, never once complaining as her needle pierced his skin and the thread pulled it closed. When she was done, she ran another clean cloth over it, wiping away the excess blood and admired her handiwork. 

“Where did you learn this remarkable skill?” he asked, looking down at his own arm. 

“I was a member of the Gods Quiver and Wood Wailers back home,” she replied, pulling out a cloth bandage from the pack. “I was but twenty when I went to the fields of Carteneau to fight the Garleans. We were all trained to provide medical attention in case the healers were otherwise preoccupied.”

“A wise requirement,” he smiled down at her. 

“Does this feel okay?” she asked as she began to wrap the cloth around the wound to protect it through the night. “Not too tight?” When he shook his head she turned on him, the anger from her guilt finally bubbling over and spilling forth from her lips before she could think better of it. 

“Why did you do that?” she snapped, eyes burning with white hot emotion. 

Haurchefant’s smile fell, though he turned her face to look at him. She didn’t want to, she wanted to wallow in her guilt and be angry that he put himself in danger for her. One look in his pale, gentle eyes only made that desire stronger.

“Carine...a knight lives to serve. You were injured and unable to defend yourself. It was the least I -” 

“I am the Warrior of Light!” she interrupted, hands shaking. “I have been blessed by the Mother Crystal. I  _ have _ protection,” she went on, images of Marni flashing in her mind. She would be  _ damned _ if she allowed another person to die because she didn’t act fast enough. “You...you could have been killed…”

Her last words were barely a whisper on trembling lips as she looked down. If Haurchefant wanted to counter her argument, he didn’t in favor of the silence that fell around them once more. Instead, his good hand reached over and gripped her own until she relaxed and allowed him to thread his fingers with hers. As small as this measure of comfort was, it helped clear her mind and take a deep breath. 

“I won’t apologize for doing my duty,” he told her, gripping her hand tight. “I would do it again gladly to see you safe from harm.”

She choked out an exasperated laugh and pulled her hand from his to finish her work. “I would prefer it if you left the saving to me.”

“And where is the fun in that?” he chuckled. 

“Plenty if you are alive,” she countered, now ready to tie the bandage off. “Almost done. Is there anything else you need of me?”

He considered this question, tapping his chin with his fingers thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “Actually, there is one thing I can think of that would aid in my recovery.”

“Of course, name it and consider it done,” she smiled, eager to do whatever it took to rid herself of the lingering guilt that still weighed in her chest.

He reached down once again, his fingers under her chin to bring her face just ilms from his own. Heat rushed to her cheeks at the close proximity, but she couldn’t bear to look away as his hand cupped her cheek. “You could rid the pain with a kiss?”

Carine blinked up at him, surprised at his boldness as she knelt there at his side. It wouldn’t take much to just close her eyes and give him what he wanted; what  _ she _ wanted. But he had already scared her and lied to her face. 

No. There were some things men couldn’t just have on a whim. 

Her fingers pulled tight at the bandage, earning her a bark of pain as Haurchefant jumped. He pulled his arm from her grasp, eyes wide with shock as she stood to her full height and dusted off her clothes. “I pray that isn’t too tight,  _ Lord _ Haurchefant. The pack there has all you need for a sleeping draught,” she told him, turning her back and walking out the door. “If you have need of anything, Lord Drillemont has servants at his disposal for you. Good night.”

 

And so she left him there, a mess of confusion and mild amusement as he watched her disappear into the dark hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this?! Two long chapters posted within a week of each other?! Has cheddarbug risen from the ashes and found her muse again?!
> 
> Why yes, yes she has ^^
> 
> Though I admit I struggle with this relationship building. I don't want to rush it, it doesn't need to be rushed, but dammit guys...You have no idea how badly I want to get to my favorite part of this fic!!!


	15. Delicate Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I will be damned if more have to suffer because you men cannot fathom the fear and pain and hopelessness these women face.”_

“Ah, Ser Aymeric! A pleasure as always.” 

Aymeric de Borel glanced up from the reports in his hands as Lord Drillemont entered the room. He acknowledged the older Elezen with a small smile and a nod before looking back at the papers he had set aside. 

“Troubling times we live in, Lord Drillemont. I trust you are well?”

“As well as can be expected,” the man sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “My apologies for not welcoming you sooner. I trust that you heard the news from last night?”

Aymeric nodded silently, blue eyes scanning the report for the upteenth time already. He knew the heretics were growing more bold as of late, but to have managed infiltration to this degree was nigh impossible. As Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, it was his duty to ensure the men and women under his command were willing to put the safety of Ishgard and the citizens within first. How any of them could pass the rigorous screening he put them through was beyond his understanding. 

Unless…

“Drillemont? Were you the one to welcome Inquisitor Guillaime to Whitebrim when he was sent here?” he asked, placing the papers on the table. 

“Unfortunately no, my Lord. With the heretics increasing their activity, I have been busy ordering my own men. I assumed the Temple Knights were more than familiar with the man,” Drillemont looked down. “And he was far more interested in the Haillenarte boy than in anything within these walls. Ever since that shipment he happened to catch whilst visiting the lad, the inquisitor-”

Aymeric held up a hand and smiled kindly. “You have no reason to apologize or excuse yourself, Lord Drillemont. I am well aware of the adversity you would have faced for questioning the man and his investigation.”

‘Twas the problem in these outlying settlements, it seemed. While they certainly received aid and orders from Foundation, ultimately these men and women were left to their own devices. To question an inquisitor sent directly from the Holy See itself would have caused outrage, as House Fortemps knew too well thanks to Lord Haurchefant’s interference. No, Aymeric could not blame Drillemont or any other small settlement lord for their inaction in this particular case. 

“There are several heretics held within Camp Dragonhead as we speak, my Lord,” Drillemont went on, his demeanor more relaxed now that he was sure his judgement was not in question. “I trust you will be going to visit Lord Haurchefant soon?”

He nodded, tapping his finger against the wood of the desk. “Lucia and I will be departing shortly. Tell me, what do you know of his guest?”

There were rumors, rumors that had caught Aymeric’s attention long before he had been ordered to grant the Scions of the Seventh Dawn an audience at the archbishop’s behest. Unfortunately the rumors heard in Ishgard were either watered down versions of actual events or exaggerated tales fit for the likes of bards and minstrels. He found it incredibly difficult to believe one person capable of felling a single Primal on their own, but to fell multiple? 

And that was only speaking on the subject of eikons. If what Aymeric had been told was true, this person also managed to defeat Gaius van Baelsar, the Black Wolf of the Garlean Empire. It baffled the mind to consider that there was one person in all of Eorzea capable of battling the most ruthless of Garlean generals in combat. Even if the rumors were nothing more than gross exaggerations of the truth, to think that one person could inspire such tales was impressive and warranted Ishgard’s attention. 

“Ah, yes, Carine,” Drillemont smiled, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “She is a force of nature, that one.”

“She?” Aymeric pondered. Yes, there had been a rumor that this Warrior of Light was a former bride drafted by the Garleans in their ill-fated treaty with the Eorzeans, but like most other Ishgardians he had chalked it up to another magnificent tale. 

“Aye. You know the Monteils?”

Aymeric nodded, remembering the smaller noble house. They weren’t highly noteworthy, having no heirs, but they still participated in Ishgardian politics like the best of them. 

“Lord Haurchefant tells me that she is a lost heir of theirs,” the older man grinned. “Of course, you would be too young to remember the scandal of the young maiden that ran away with a man from the Brume.”

“We still see plenty of those stories play out,” Aymeric gently reminded him. It was never a pretty thing. Women and men both were disowned for loving someone of lower class. Oftentimes, people chose that way of life for the sake of love and died young in the effort. Moreso nowadays with the eternal winter hanging over their heads.

“Right, right,” Drillemont cleared his throat. “Given how close the two of them seem to be, I have no reason to believe she wouldn’t tell him true about her heritage. She seems the honest sort. Strong head on her shoulders and determination to rival even yours.”

The two men discussed this Warrior of Light for several minutes, helping the Lord Commander to glean any useful information about the woman he would be meeting upon his arrival in Camp Dragonhead. Given the high praise she had earned from Drillemont for her help among the citizens of Coerthas, Aymeric had but little choice to anticipate his meeting with this mysterious woman. 

Lucia interrupted their talks, reminding him that there were still other appointments to keep. Her large, green eyes looked to him earnestly as she walked by his side, hand ever resting on her hilt. “Tell it true, have they increased their activity?” she asked him once out of earshot of the Durrendaire knights. 

He nodded, keeping a steady pace as they made their way to the caravan with which they traveled. “Heretics among the Temple Knights, if what Drillemont says is to be believed.”

“Seven Hells,” she muttered, breath fogging out as she furrowed her brow. “‘Tis worse than we thought. Mayhap what the Astrologians say is true.”

His jaw clenched at the thought. There was no denying the mounting evidence growing around them that the Dragonsong War was finally reaching a crescendo. Aside from increased dragon activity along every Ishgardian border, there was the increase in attacks made my the heretics here in Coerthas. The Astrologians warning about the stirring of the great wyrmking Midgardsormr at Silvertear was only another sign that the end was near. 

Or so it would seem. None of this counted the Warrior of Light making an appearance.

“Come, Lucia,” he smiled at her, motioning for her to ride ahead of him. “We mustn’t keep our audience waiting.”

 

***

 

“You should allow me to heal that, you know,” Alphinaud scolded as he watched Carine examine the cut on her cheek. The entire right side of her face was the loveliest of purples according to Haurchefant, and she couldn’t help but think he was right. Not that this particular shade brought out her beauty, but she couldn’t deny she liked the fact it made her look like she was this warrior everyone claimed her to be. 

“And you know that I  _ like _ to wear my cuts and bruises with honor,” she reminded him with a smile. 

The youth rolled his eyes. “I would be more than pleased to allow you to keep any other marks upon your flesh as you so desire, but it would be ill-advised to look like you had lost a fight with a beast when meeting with the Lord Commander of Ishgard.”

Right. Him. Haurchefant had told her this morning that this Ser Aymeric would be arriving in Camp Dragonhead at some point today. Unfortunately, thanks to whatever was going on in Mor Dhona, Minfilia was otherwise preoccupied and couldn’t attend. That left Alphinaud as the emissary for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. 

That would have been well and good enough for Carine. She was more than happy to go out into the wilds and help the locals hunt whatever beasts they decided to test her against. Was it that simple? Of course it bloody wasn’t. As it turned out, Ser Aymeric had a desire to meet and speak with the Warrior of Light as well and had requested her presence upon their meeting. 

A little change in plan that Alphinaud was hardly pleased with.

“I don’t see why it makes a difference. He’s a knight. They fight and get just as bloody and bruised,” she countered, poking at her cheek and wincing just a bit at the sting. 

“And they ask their healers to rid them of the evidence,” he replied. “If you would just-”

“Fine! Do as you will,” Carine snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting him a venomous glare. “If it will get you to shut up about it, by all means.”

She knew she shouldn’t have been so sharp with the lad. Alphinaud was clearly anxious about this meeting. All morning he had straightened and smoothed his attire, braided and unbraided his long, white hair, practiced all manner of speech in front of the mirror. This meeting wasn’t just important to the Scions, but it was important for him to establish his role among them. 

But that didn’t mean he had any right to order her around like she were some ward he was in charge of. 

Alphinaud didn’t waste another second. Reaching for his book, his lips were already moving with the incantation that sent a ripple of cooling healing magic against her cheek. She watched as her skin stitched back together and the purple hue of the bruise fade to the natural tones of her skin. Before she could blink, the mark she had bore was gone, leaving behind unblemished flesh as though she hadn’t fought a day in her life. 

All except the thin, white scar over her brow.  _ That _ no one was allowed to touch or heal.

“I don’t see your obsession with keeping scars anyway, Carine,” Alphinaud told her with a snap of his grimoire. “You are the more beautiful without them.”

_ Because beauty is what wins battles, _ she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. 

They were interrupted with a knock on the door followed by Haurchefant smiling their way. Carine could practically hear the sharp intake of breath and prayer Alphinaud offered up to the Twelve as the Elezen lord approached. “Are you well, Master Alphinaud?”

Another deep breath from the teen and he nodded, the anxiety and trepidation melting away. “Are there any suggestions you may have to aid us with our cause?”

“You have nothing to fear,” he assured them, turning his eyes to Carine. “You must needs only present your case plainly. Cold as we may be, we are not opposed to reason.”

_ Ha! Says the only reasonable Ishgardian I have met in this godsforsaken land, _ she thought with a smirk. His gentle smile and reassuring eyes were enough to trust his judgement on this. Besides, it wasn’t as though she were going to be the one negotiating a treaty. 

Carine and Alphinaud followed Haurchefant out of the library where Alphinaud had been practicing his speech and out to a separate building where the meeting would be held. From what she could see, there was but one way in and one way out. There were no windows for passersby to witness the goings on within, and little chance for anyone to listen in on what would take place. 

A long, sturdy wooden table stretched through the middle of the room. One large, elegant chair sat at one side while several smaller chairs lined the edge. Tapestries hung from the stone walls, but there was little decoration otherwise save for a screen near the door. Servants, unbothered by Lord Haurchefant’s presence, finished pouring wine into five goblets, setting them on the table before departing. 

If Carine thought she would be waiting for this envoy of Ishgard to arrive, she found herself pleasantly surprised when the door opened not long after the servants’ departure revealing two tall figures. At once she stood in an upright position, ready to introduce herself when she paused. She recognized that armor, that specific blue hue trimmed in decorative gold. Her eyes followed up the body of the man standing in front, knowing before ever seeing his face she would find blue eyes and a shock of black hair. 

It seemed that he recognized her too, though it took a moment more now that she wasn’t dressed in revealing silks that left her legs on full display. He blinked in surprise, halting in his approach as he stared at her with wide eyes and now pink cheeks. 

Well, this would certainly be awkward. 

“I would like to introduce you to Ser Aymeric de Borel, the lord commander of the Temple Knights,” Haurchefant stepped aside, allowing the two visitors to come further into the room. 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Alphinaud smiled. “Apologies that Minfilia could not attend. Urgent matters in Mor Dhona required her full attention, but she did entrust me to speak on her behalf.”

Carine was too caught up in the realization that their most important guest and the envoy of Ishgard was none other than the man that had helped her up in the snow the night before to realize it was her turn to speak. Twelve only knew what he thought of her now as he looked at her expectedly. Hells, gods knew what she thought of herself for having agreed to to Haurchefant’s mad idea in the first place. 

“Ahem, my colleague here would be Carine Monteil, though I am sure you would know her best as the Warrior of Light,” Alphinaud spoke up for her, shooting an irritated glance at her lack of attention. 

The surprise in Aymeric’s eyes did not go unnoticed as he looked her over again. There was little doubt that he was trying to wrap his head around the fact that a woman of the night was capable of fighting off Primals. However, his surprise gave way to gentle kindness much like he had looked at her the night before when taking her hand and helping her from the snow. If there was any judgement, he did not allow that to set a cloud over their proceedings, at least so far. 

“A bold title, wouldn’t you say Lucia?” he turned and looked to his companion. 

“It is indeed, Lord Commander.” She was tall, just as tall as Aymeric, but a Hyur from what she could see. Pale blonde hair hung over one side of her face and over a circlet that sat at her brow. Steel armor covered her body, a long sword hung to her side. Another female knight, one of precious few that Carine had seen during her time here in Coerthas.

“I am not too proud to admit that I was surprised to learn that this mysterious Warrior of Light was a woman, a woman of Ishgardian heritage, no less,” he went on. “Full glad am I that you agreed to join us today.”

“Forgive me for being so bold, Lord Commander,” she began. “But I am no woman of Ishgard. Any family that I may have come from saw to that when they disowned my mother for freely loving another.”

If she had offended him, Aymeric made no show of it as he smiled at her. Alphinaud, on the other hand, was likely doing all he could to restrain himself from rubbing his head at her words. 

“So it is true then? All that the rumors have said in regards to you?” he went on to ask, following Haurchefant as he showed him to his seat. 

Carine shrugged. “There are many rumors about me. You would have to be more specific.”

“You have, indeed, slain several Primals?” 

“Ifrit was my first, Ramuh has been the latest,” she replied with a grin. “Not that I count him. His desire was only to protect the Twelveswood from the Garlean menace.”

“Indeed,” Aymeric tented his fingers before him, carefully considering his next question. “And it was you that drove the Garleans from their subjugation of Eorzea? You that defeated the XIVth Legion?”

She took a sip of the wine that sat before her, choosing still to stand before getting too comfortable around the man questioning her. If there was ever a moment she needed to remain tact and collected for Alphinaud’s sake, it was now. “Aye, though I did not accomplish that feat alone. The Eorzean Alliance fought the army while I took care of Gaius and his subordinates. Oh, and the Ultima Weapon.”

Dark brows raised. “And of the rumors concerning you being a bride to a Garlean?”

Carine swallowed and licked her lips. She should have known it would have been brought up, though she wished it hadn’t. It was the stain on her otherwise perfect record to everyone she ever met. A stain that could never be washed away no matter how many Primals and threats she fought. “The marriage treaty was deemed null and void in the wake of the events at the Praetorium,” she carefully chose her words. “Therefore my marriage created by the draft has since been dissolved.”

A hand rested on her shoulder, bringing her even just an onze of comfort. There was no need for her to turn to see who it was and silently she thanked Haurchefant for the sweet gesture. Though it was unneeded, it would not go unappreciated. 

Aymeric turned to Lucia who stood attentively at his side. A moment of understanding passed between them before he turned back to Carine with a look of apology. “It was not my intention to offend, Warrior of Light. It was merely to ascertain which rumors were true and which proved false.”

“I shall apologize for my...defensiveness. It has been a much asked question ever since this new journey of mine began,” she bowed her head, earning a look of approval from her companion. 

Alphinaud cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself as he took his place directly across from Ser Aymeric. He chose to stand when all others sat. Carine supposed it was because he was still so young and therefore so much shorter than the rest of the party present. Still, despite his youth, he was passionate and carried a commanding air about him as he swung out his arm. “Shall we get started then?”

Carine sat to his right. She was merely there as a supportive presence, opting to keep quiet unless something was asked of her. Lucia, the woman that had come with Ser Aymeric, appeared to be holding the same role. She couldn’t help but notice the way she gazed at her, a disorienting mix of anger and sorrow in the depths of her eyes. Lucia didn’t seem to fear Carine, nor did she appear to admire her either, which beggared the question of what she thought about the Warrior of Light. 

“We know that the Garleans will return in full force ‘ere long. ‘Tis only a matter of how long it takes them to replenish the forces lost in our attack against them,” Alphinaud began, coming right out with the worst of the news. 

“And how, pray tell, did you come across this information?” Aymeric asked, folding his hands before him and leaning forward in his seat. Carine stiffened, heart throbbing in her chest as she wondered how Alphinaud would handle the question. She hadn’t told Haurchefant the truth of everything yet, and wasn’t entirely sure if she should. 

“We are not without our resources, my Lord,” he replied, tactful and assertive without a hint of hesitation. “Emperor Solus is no more from what they have told us and a new emperor has been crowned.”

This information seemed to take Lucia by surprise. “Solus is no more? Since when?”

Alphinaud shrugged and shook his head. “Unfortunately we are not aware of the exact date of his death or how. From what we have been informed was that illness finally claimed him sometime between the events at the Praetorium and now. In truth, we had not heard word from the capital for months.”

“I see,” Aymeric’s lips thinned as he pressed them together. “Go on, Master Alphinaud.”

“The Scions have also not achieved a lasting victory over the Primals. The beastmen continue to pray to their gods and each incarnation imagined is stronger than the last. ‘Tis all Carine can do to keep up with them,” Alphinaud looked to her and nodded. “Ishgard is not immune to these threats I speak. The Ixal reside within your borders as they do within Gridania, and Garuda is no force to be trifled.

“So I come to you, on behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to propose an alliance in which we may both benefit. Imagine if we were to unite together against the might of the Empire as a single affront! They would be hard pressed to regain the control they once had over us not ‘ere long ago. In turn, you would receive aid from the Scions in protecting your kith and kin from the threat of Primals.”

It was a strong argument, and the way the young man delivered it should have had Aymeric in his pocket. There was no need to turn down such an offer, given the state of affairs as they were. The Ascians, so long as they continued moving against the Scions, would find any way they could to agitate the beastmen into summoning their gods. The Garleans, given their love of conquest, would not stop at Eorzea once they had brought her to heel. Nay, they would then set their sights on Ishgard. And there was little doubt in her mind that Ishgard would fall. 

“I must respectfully decline your offer,” Aymeric said, closing his eyes. 

“Pardon? On what grounds?” For the first time since Carine had known Alphinaud, she witnessed him lose that precious self control he had. His hands clenched at his sides, his lips pressed into a tight line, he even dared to glare at the lord commander as though he were the one at fault.

Aymeric took a deep breath, ignoring the slight outburst from the younger man as he replied, “First, the Ixal do not concern us. While they maintain a presence here in Coerthas, their primary territory is within the Twelveswood. As such, ‘tis the Gridanians in which they present the greatest threat, not us. Consequently, the archbishop has declared Garuda to be a Gridanian affair. As such, Ishgard does not intervene in the affairs of other nations.”

“You do realize that if Garuda were to come to power, her sights would not linger long on solely the Twelveswood?” Carine interjected, picking at her finger as she looked at him. “I have bore witness to her power and might first hand. If you think your lances and swords would do well against her, I strongly urge you to reconsider.”

Her input was rewarded by a smile from the Elezen sitting across from her and an acknowledging glint in his eye. “But Gridania has the Warrior of Light to stave the tide of the eikon’s wrath, does she not? And even if that were not the case, Ishgardian forces are wholly dedicated in our war against the Dravanians. Even if I were to agree, we do not have the forces to spare.”

“Then, if I may be so bold, what keeps you from joining the Eorzean Alliance? Men and women whom are more than capable of fighting could be sent to aid your forces. Surely you can see the benefit from that?” Alphinaud asked, his cool, collected demeanor bordering on arrogance returning. 

“The Alliance has not aided us in the past in our struggle against the dravanians, we would not force it on them now,” Aymeric shook his head. “As for the Garleans, we are not ignorant of history. We have observed their rise and we have heard the tales from Ala Mhigo and Eorzea where the Draft was prominent. It has been agreed that they pose a significant threat in the future.”

“Would it not be wise then to present as a united front against them?” Alphinaud raised a brow. 

“Mayhap one day, but not yet.”

Carine stood, taking all that she could. She smacked her hands against the table and leaned forward so that they could see the urgency in her eyes. “If not now, then  _ when?” _ she pleaded, looking between Aymeric and Lucia, and even at Haurchefant. “Would it not be best to ally now while they are still scrambling to summon forth an army to strike us down? Or would you prefer to wait until they already have a full force knocking at our borders? Better yet, why not just wait until Eorzea lies in ruin and they are storming the Gates of Judgement to rape and claim and break your women?”

“That is quite enough, Carine,” Alphinaud hissed under his breath, glaring at her with sapphire eyes. 

“‘Tis not enough!” she exclaimed, ignoring his warning. “You have not lived it as I, and even I cannot claim to have lived it as others. But I know those that have. I have seen their spirits broken, their lives crushed by the might of their forced husbands. I have seen children abandoned in the streets and wives left by their husbands because of what they had endured. Everything was taken from them and then everything they wanted has been denied. I will be  _ damned _ if more have to suffer because you men cannot fathom the fear and pain and  _ hopelessness _ these women face.”

Heavy silence filled the air following her outburst, but she was far too angry to care whether or not she had ruined yet another negotiation for the Scions. Must everyone she come in contact with be so blind to the plight of others around them? Must they have to face these same trials to gain just an onze of insight? What would it take to get them to understand that it wasn’t just the lives of people at stake, but their very souls?

A hand reached out and covered the top of her own, breaking the wave of anger long enough for Carine to look up and see Haurchefant softly smiling at her. Just that small gesture of comfort was more than enough to allow her a deep breath to center herself and face the man across the table once again. 

Aymeric hadn’t taken his eyes from her, and his stoic expression gave little insight as to what he thought of her now as he looked upon her. Still, she would not apologize for what she believed or how she believed it. Someone needed to speak for those that did not have the power to speak for themselves. If she had to use her title as Warrior of Light to be their voice, she damn well would.

“We are not ignorant of how Garleans treat their women,” the lord commander finally said, offering a small smile in reassurance. “While I would disagree with the archbishop on this matter, I have not the authority to go against his orders.”

“Then what, pray tell, is this meeting for? If we are not to reach an agreement on the matter of an alliance, I fail to see the point in this endeavor,” Alphinaud asked. 

Now Aymeric smiled more broadly, leaning back in his seat in a more relaxed and familiar position. “I did not come here merely as a representative of Ishgard, nor did I come here only to leave with discontent between our nations,” he replied warmly. “While I cannot change Ishgardian policy, regardless of my personal feelings, I do have some manner of influence over other things.”

“Such as?” Alphinaud crossed his arms over his chest, an action mimicked by Carine. 

“There have been...concerns...that have been raised over the provisions and supplies that House Fortemps is currently sending to Revenant’s Toll to aid your efforts. Some are considering this aiding in foreign powers and are seeing this as a direct challenge of Ishgardian policies.”

Carine’s mouth popped open and she quickly turned to Lord Haurchefant as if he could give some sort of explanation. How long had he been aiding the Scions with supplies meant for his men? What kind of trouble was he possibly in because he believed in their cause? 

“I can ensure that these shipments continue unabated,” Aymeric finished, looking now directly at Alphinaud. The younger Elezen did not seem surprised of this knowledge, which meant that he knew of it long before she did. Mayhap it was something he and Haurchefant had agreed upon at some other point and time, but why hadn’t she been informed?

“Ser Aymeric, we would be in your debt,” Haurchefant told him, relief apparent in his words. 

But the lord commander shook his head. “I fear that is not the case, for I require something in exchange,” he looked to Carine and to Alphinaud now. “As you are well aware, there has been a flurry of dravanian activity of late. Both of you have dealt with the heretical side of the problem, however the dragons of Ishgard are becoming more brazen in their attacks as well. We have been hard pressed to discover what has brought this change in behavior to light, but until recently that had remained unclear. 

Our Astrologians have observed alarming changes in the heavens. Whether or not they are to be believed by outsiders is not of my concern however, there are whispers that these changes allude to the wakening of the wyrmking Midgardsormr.”

Alphinaud took a step back, his face a mix of shock and disbelief at the lord commander’s words. Even Carine found herself skeptical as she listened to him. 

“You speak of the resurrection of the fallen guardian of Silvertear Falls? That’s absurd!” Alphinaud shook his head. “How long has his corpse lain there wrapped around Agrius? And you tell me that because the stars are aligning just right, the mightiest of wyrms shall rise again?”

“We have seen stranger,” Carine noted under her breath, remembering the not so distant fight she had against the Allagan Emperor Xande. 

Aymeric did not falter at Alphinaud’s words, but he did seem to take note of what the Warrior of Light had said as he looked to her now in earnest. “Long have I pondered what life would be like if that thing still commanded the skies; how different it would be. I do not know, nor do I want to. But,” he went on, smiling now at Alphinaud. “As you have so helpfully pointed out, mere skepticism and an increase in dravanian activity is not enough grounds to send Ishgardian knights to investigate, even if we are to believe what our Astrologians say. We simply do not have the men to spare.”

“But we do,” Carine pointed out, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility being added to her shoulders as the realization of what he was proposing dawned upon her. 

“So in exchange for you intervening on our behalf, we would keep an eye on the Keeper of the Lake?” Alphinaud asked, making the exchange quite clear for all present. 

“Do you accept these terms?” 

If it had been up to her, Carine would have declined. As it were, she was the last person that would be put in charge of a decision such as this, and full glad was she that it wasn’t hers to make. Helpful as supplies from House Fortemps were, especially now that the Domans were settled outside Revenant’s Toll, the thought of that giant wyrm awakening for her to have to fight wasn’t pleasant. That was a beast not so dissimilar to Bahamut. That comparison absolutely terrified her.

Alphinaud gave his decision much thought before finally nodding. “I do. I shall ensure Lord Haurchefant relays any developments we witness to you post haste,” he replied with a confident smirk. “While I regret that we were not able to reach a conclusion on other matters, I would like to look upon this as the first step to a possible future alliance with Ishgard.”

“As would I, Master Alphinaud,” Aymeric nodded in agreement. 

A knock at the door disrupted the conclusion of the meeting, bringing all eyes to the single door that lead into the room. A moment later, and one of the Fortemps knights was brought in.

“What is the meaning of this?” Haurchefant stood, turning on the man in a flurry. “We were not to be disturbed.”

“Apologies, my Lord,” the knight bowed. “But there are men here searching for Commander Levilleur and the Warrior of Light.”

Carine and Alphinaud looked at each other, both wondering who might possibly be looking for them here in Coerthas that could not otherwise contact them via their linkpearls. Another moment more and their unasked question was answered as Ilberd, Alphinaud’s second in command was lead into the room. 

“Apologies for the intrusion,” he said with a smile. “But I have need to question some of your prisoners from the other night.”


	16. The Seeds of Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot going on here...but dammit you gotta ache for those refugees man...
> 
> And shady people be shady >.>

“So…” Carine began, picking at her fingers as she leaned casually against the wall in the main hall of Haurchefant’s estate. “You’ve been sending supplies to Revenant’s Toll for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? When did this happen?”

It was better to fill the silence that filled the air as they waited for Alphinaud and apparently Aymeric to be done with whatever important questioning Ilberd had with one of the heretics in the dungeon. His arrival had been strange to say the least, and his reason stranger still. Apparently there was a Garlean spy in the midst of Eorzea, supplying precious information and weapons to the Garleans as well as the refugees that lived outside of Ul’dah. To make matters stranger, this “Ivy” apparently also had connections to the heretics of Ishgard. The situation was so odd, that Aymeric had taken it upon himself to oversee the questioning.

Which left Carine alone with Haurchefant, waiting for their next move. 

“Master Alphinaud and I struck an agreement shortly after your arrival,” the Elezen lord shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the matter. “Your cause is a worthy one and my family is honored to be a part of aiding you.”

“I...see…” she pondered, blushing a little in the wake of the fact he hadn’t been doing this simply to win her favor. “It is much appreciated, what with the arrival of the Domans,” she added. “Though I worry about your state of affairs here. You are not in need of these provisions and supplies? What of your own people?”

Haurchefant beamed his signature charming smile, blue eyes lighting up as he took his place to her side. “Why, my dear, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you worried for my safety.”

Playfully she shoved against him, smirking and shaking her head. “Worried more about whether or not this puts the dragons at the advantage over you in this war. It wouldn’t do if you were to perish before my training was complete.”

He quirked a brow, grin now becoming devilish as he pushed back. “No, I daresay it would not. Mayhap ‘twould be more beneficial to go ahead with that payment we agreed upon then, yes?”

“Ever the smooth one, aren’t you Lord Haurchefant?” Carine smiled, allowing her shoulder to rest comfortably against him as they stood side by side. It seemed silly and impossible that she had come to be so comfortable around him, but the lord had been nothing but kind and patient and supportive of her. His presence, though nerve wracking at times, was enough to quell her fear and anxiety. Even now, though there was naught to fear or worry over, her hand itched to hold onto his and seek that comfort only he could offer. 

That didn’t mean she was ready to kiss him just yet.

Just then, the door opened from across the room, jolting Carine out of her fantasy and somehow moving her several ilms from the man beside her. At once, Alphinaud, Aymeric, and Ilberd emerged with an Elezen in chains behind them. One nod, and the prisoner was escorted by two other Crystal Braves outside while the trio that had done the questioning came forth to bear the news. 

“‘Tis worse than I thought,” Alphinaud shook his head. “Ilberd tells me this ‘Ivy’ has roots that run deep with the Garleans and the heretics here, though for what reasons we do not know.”

“Is there any idea who it might be?” Carine asked, brow furrowing with concern. 

Ilberd nodded, though the look he gave brought her no comfort. “That prisoner knows more than he lets on,” he said, grey eyes following the prisoner’s back with a look of disdain. 

“And what of Lady Iceheart? Does he know of her as well?” Haurchefant asked, stepping forward.

“No. Unfortunately it seems as though he had little rank among the heretics and had never personally met her, nor had he had any direct orders from the Guillaime imposter. ‘Tis why I have relinquished our authority over him to the Crystal Braves to further their investigation,” Aymeric replied. “May Halone guide you.”

With that, the dark-haired Elezen departed, his tall, blonde companion ever silent at his side. Carine couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that he had left so soon considering all the progress they had been making. That, and she desperately wanted to apologize for her state of dress the night they had first met. A problem for another day. 

“Carine, Ilberd also informs me that Minfilia is requesting your presence at the Rising Stones. ‘Twould be best that you relay the outcome of our negotiations to her while I assist Ilberd in learning more of this Ivy,” Alphinaud instructed her. 

“So soon? But the negotiations concluded nothing,” she reminded him. It didn’t help that the ring around her neck seemed to weigh heavily on her anytime her mind wandered to it. Nero was still a viable threat, even after a month of not knowing his location or intentions.  _ Especially _ not knowing them. 

The young Elezen shrugged. “If you are so worried, then you may bring that up with her. For now, ‘tis best we say our goodbyes for now and make haste for the Rising Stones,” he told her before turning to Haurchefant. “Words cannot express my gratitude at your hospitality. I pray that this shall be an everlasting friendship between us. Please, when you have need of the Scions, send us word and we shall endeavor to heed your call.”

Carine watched as Alphinaud ascended the stairs, Ilberd close behind to help him gather all his things. She rolled her eyes and released a heavy sigh when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up to into Haurchefant’s eyes as he smiled down upon her in knowing. 

“Sorry we have to leave so abruptly,” she muttered, looking back down at the floor. “A shame I won’t get to finish my training with you.”

“A short reprieve and well earned rest from the trials of sword and shield training,” he laughed, his hand dropping down to clutch at her own. Her heart fluttered wildly at the contact and she refused to look back up at him lest she give in and kiss him right then and there for all to witness. 

“I-I will endeavor not to forget the important lessons you have taught me thus far. And I promise to practice every day,” she vowed. She meant it too. 

His smile softened as his hand gently squeezed her own. “Carine, your help in clearing Francel’s name will never be forgotten. Should you ever have need of me, you have but to ask and I shall be there.”

Heart swelling with emotion, Carine looked up to him to bear witness to the sincerity in his words. He left no room for doubt as his free hand caressed her cheek so gently, she wondered if he truly even touched her. How easy it would be to just give in, lean against his touch and for once forget about the troubles in this world. He made it seem as though it were so simple, that all she had to do was let go and all would still be well, but an interrupting cough from behind her reminded the Warrior of Light there was still much to do.

Reluctantly she released his hand, hating the emptiness she felt in the act as she turned to gather what little she had brought with her to Camp Dragonhead. It was going to be a long, cold ride back to Northern Thanalan.

 

***

 

They left Coerthas in a much larger party than they had come. Carine was atop Buck, riding to the right of the carriage drawn by two draft Chocobos, her bow strung upon her back. There was a lad named Wilred riding to the otherside of the carriage. He had been one of the Ala Mhigan refugees that had been recruited to the Crystal Braves, given a second chance after an ill-fated attempt at raising Rhalgr to free his homeland of the Garleans. With him was another young man named Laurentius, a Wood Wailer Carine had known some time ago before the Draft. He was another second chance at life recruit, after he had sold Wood Wailer scouting paths to the Garleans.

Alphinaud had opted to ride in the carriage with the prisoner and another couple Crystal Braves Carine didn’t know off the top of her head. This time he was well prepared for the harsh conditions of the cold landscape wearing a thick cloak, wool-lined clothes and gloves and boots to protect him from the biting winds. He had managed to borrow several tomes from Haurchefant’s personal library to continue his study of the Dragonsong War...which was all well and good because it kept him from complaining the whole way home. 

Beside her was Ilberd. He was a beast of a Highlander. Tall, thick, bronzed skin coupled with pale hair and eyes made him easy to look at. A voice smooth as butter made him easy to talk to. His history growing up with Raubahn made listening all the more worthwhile. 

“So you and your family fled Ala Mhigo?” Carine asked. They had time to spare, and she was wont for conversation as they traveled the dreary road. 

“Aye, we did. Not that I wanted to, mind you,” he replied. “I wanted nothing more than to fight those bastards and take back what was ours, but they were too strong by the time we realized what had happened.”

“Not too different than what happened here, sadly,” she sighed. 

He shook his head, “Not true. The Alliance willingly submitted to a treaty that handed over their women for the Garleans to abuse. Ala Mhigo was  _ taken.  _ There were plenty of signs, I’ll grant you that, Lass, but we were all too bloody desperate to see them until it was too late.”

“Do you someday hope to go back?” she turned to him. “I mean...well, I don’t know what I mean…” Her words failed her as embarrassment took over. How in Seven Hells was he going to go back to his homeland that was completely under Garlean control?

“Don’t worry your head, ‘tis an honest question,” he smiled. “Might I counter it with a question of my own?”

It seemed fair enough, given her blunder moments before. “Of course, ask anything you wish.”

“I heard word from a friend of mine in Ul’dah, something about an outspoken Elezen defending the rights of the refugees there,” he began, shooting her a glance. “Is what he tells me true?”

Ah, he had to be talking about Raubahn. Carine smiled, glad that it seemed her little outburst hadn’t tainted his view on her if he were possibly bragging about her to the likes of Ilberd. “Their plight is one worthy of attention,” she told him. “‘Tis not the first time I favored them over those with fortune.”

“I suppose it isn’t. He also told me what happened with Ifrit and the thralls...that you grieved for them as though they were your own.”

Carine’s smile faded as the memory of the blank stare Marni had given her as Ifrit corrupted her mind. “As far as I am concerned, Ilberd, they  _ are _ my own,” she told him. “True, I have never faced the hardships you or they have and continue to face, but I am not blind to them. The least I could do is lend them whatever support I can while those in power pull their heads out of their asses long enough to look around and see people suffering at their feet.”

A deep, rumbling chuckle was her answer. “It seems Raubahn wasn’t exaggerating your enthusiasm to the cause. ‘Tis a reassuring thought to know the Warrior of Light stands with the downtrodden. If only others would see it the same way.”

There was a grit to his voice, a hardness that made her turn to face him. Whatever cloud of anger had hovered over his words was long gone before she looked upon his face. He wasn’t content, that much was clear as his brows puckered together with whatever worry was on his mind. His was a struggle she was full glad she didn’t have to face. Being torn from her mother and everything she had ever known for just a few weeks had been near torture enough when she had been drafted. To think she would have never seen the lush green of Gridania again had been agony that kept her awake at night until Nero had allowed her to go home. 

Ilberd and the other refugees didn’t have that option. It was either go home and forfeit their lives to a cause they didn’t believe, fight and die against an enemy far stronger than they, or leave for a land that would always see them as outsiders, doomed to die from starvation in the streets as the wealthy passed them by wearing expensive silks with fat bellies. 

‘Tis little wonder that he seemed jaded. 

 

***

The group had paused long enough in Revenant’s Toll to refurbish their supplies and rest from their journey. Though Carine had never cared for the persistent purple gloom that hung over the rocky, jagged landscape of Mor Dhona, the slightest chill in the air was welcome to the bone-chilling cold she had become accustomed to during her stay in Coerthas. What was even more welcome was the report she had received from Thancred telling her to continue on as an escort for the prisoner to Ul’dah for questioning. 

There was no question as to why they were traveling that far south. The Rising Stones was merely the headquarters of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and the Crystal Braves. While they had done much to improve upon what they had been given, there was still lack of a proper dungeon to house prisoners. Out of all the city-states, Ul’dah was the one closest to where they resided and so long as the Crystal Braves took care of Scion business, Raubahn had no quarrel with them making use of their extensive dungeons for the time being. 

“Mind if I travel along with you?” Thancred asked, sitting himself on the carriage where the prisoner was being held. 

Carine shrugged, strapping her saddlebags to Buck’s saddle and making sure to cinch them tight. “Couldn’t you just use the aetheryte?” she asked, turning to see the giant blue crystal that illuminated the center of the settlement. If it were a choice, she would be more than happy to flow through the life stream and find herself materialized much further south in the capital of Thanalan however, there was no guarantee the prisoner had been attuned to the aetheryte within the city. 

It was messy business trying to navigate the lifestream without a solid destination in mind. Carine had remembered the fear in attempting that very thing when trying to find a way into Titan’s lair without alerting the entire hive of kobolds of her arrival. The only thing that had been on her side then was Y’shtola and her powerful connection to aether. Had it not been for the white mage and fellow Scion, as well as Riol’s detailed memory of Titan’s exact location, Carine was sure that she would have been lost to the stream for eternity. 

It simply wasn’t worth the risk when they needed the information in that prisoner’s head. 

“I could, but miss out for a chance to chat with a beautiful woman such as yourself? I think not,” he winked, pulling one of his daggers from a sheath at his hip and sharpening it with a whetstone from his pocket. 

Carine rolled her eyes, but smiled at the Hyur as she took her place next to him. “Any news on how the Scions are faring with my fuck up?” 

“Minfilia remains positive in light of this meeting you and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights had,” he replied honestly, the rasp of steel against stone the only other sound between them. “She will be more than eager to hear your report upon her return.”

She supposed she shouldn’t have expected more. What were they to do when her job was to help forge an alliance deemed impossible? A month, while a long time when stuck in a cold, unforgiving landscape surrounded by people that were much the same, was nothing when it came to the game of words and strategy in which Minfilia played. “Where is she, by the way?”

His arm bumped against her, a look of mock hurt writ upon his features as his hand went to his chest. “Why, it’s almost as if you don’t even care that I’m here! Words hurt, Carine.”

“Pardon me, Thancred,” she giggled. “I hadn’t realized you were so sensitive. I shall endeavor to do better.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled, returning to sharpening his blade. “And she went to greet an old friend. She will be back by the time you are finished with your business in Ul’dah.”

“And what exactly is  _ your _ business in Ul’dah?” she asked. It was a silly question, given that Thancred’s job was to monitor the city-state on behalf of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and act in their stead when it was deemed necessary. Lately, ever since the possession of Lahabrea, he had been given much lighter duty to keep him from becoming too overworked as he had before. Mayhap it was time he returned to a full workload. 

“Why, to see all the beautiful dancing girls of course!” he smiled widely. Carine could see the way it never quite reached his eyes and the way he quickly looked away at Alphinaud’s approach. 

He was lying.  She didn’t know why, but she didn’t care for it either. It had been at her suggestion that the Scions keep her informed of all they did so she wouldn’t be blindsided as she had been when it came to Marni. The last thing she needed was to have another temper tantrum because she was thrust into something she was ill-prepared for.

 

And, of course, she hadn’t been the least bit prepared for the shitstorm brewing outside of Ul’dah.

What had started as a lovely, clear day traveling through the dry, dusty land had quickly gone sour the moment they had set their eyes upon the sandstone walls of the great city. Carine hadn’t seen so many refugees outside the gates, each face looking more haggard and worn than when last she had seen them. They rushed her, their desperate eyes and sunken cheeks begged her for any money or food that she could afford. It took all Ilberd and the other Braves could muster to push them back and away from the Warrior of Light.

Pity and guilt clawed at the back of her throat as she urged Buck onward, tearing her eyes from the sight of so many people, dirty and starving, looking to her as though she were their only hope. While she had supplies in her saddlebags that she could easily give to them, they weren’t nearly enough to feed the hoard. If she were to give even just one thing to one person, the entire mob would fall upon them, their thin arms outstretched as they trampled over each other for one more meal. So she had to keep facing forward and ignore their feeble pleas and broken praises as she followed the caravan to the gates.

It was little wonder that the Brass Blades had increased security measures. Carine had thought the outside had been bad enough, but within the city itself the plight of the refugees was much worse. Dead bodies were piled at the gate, white cloths covering their identities - not that anyone would care to know their names. Whoever wasn’t already dead was sitting as close to the gate as possible, offering up bowls and begging for any spare gil travelers could afford to give them. 

The smell wasn’t easy to ignore either. Rotting flesh, buzzing flies, shit and piss in the gutters of the streets from the refugees living there. It was enough to burn her nostrils and sting her eyes. It broke her heart all the same, reminding her that this would have been Marni’s fate had she never been captured by the Amalj'aa. Mayhap succumbing to Ifrit’s call and being put out of her misery was better than living this way. 

One look at Ilberd, and she could tell he would have agreed. His pale eyes hardened, not out of lack of pity or out of irritation at the disgusting sight that welcomed them, but because these were  _ his _ people. His brothers and sisters that had been forced from their homeland just as he had been. And they were suffering. 

And the Eorzeans dared to say that Garleans were the cruel ones. 

“You! You’re her! The Warrior of Light!” an older refugee pointed to her, his dark brown eyes lighting up as though he had seen the answer to all his problems. “Please, I beg of you. Just a meal. One more meal!”

Another man blocked Buck’s path, making the Chocobo flap his wings in agitation and ‘kweh angrily. Before she knew it, she had been blocked off and separated from the rest of the group. She swallowed, calming her nerves as she looked at them all with sadness in her eyes. 

“I-I cannot help you, not right now,” she stammered. “But allow me to finish my meeting with the Immortal Flames and I shall spend the night hunting game for you to feast upon.”

It was the best she could offer. She had plenty of arrows and skill unlike any other when it came to using her bow. One evening in Western Thanalan could provide them all with plenty of meat to feed on and give them supplies for clothing or things to sell for money. 

But it wasn’t enough. More and more of the hungry crowd drew around her as word spread about who she was. Ilberd, Thancred, and the others were already out of sight when she was able to look up again. Carine had been backed into a corner, unable to get around the people now crowding around her and Buck as they sought to take whatever she had as though they had some right. She didn’t want to hurt them, but she didn’t want them causing a riot either if she dropped her saddlebags to serve as a distraction. 

And then there was the Duskwight Elezen, a cousin of sorts to her Wildwood ancestry. His cold, pale eyes were not as hunger driven as his comrades, though his lean figure suggested he was just as starved. Dull, black hair was pulled back in a tight braid, sharpening his sinister features as he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, eyes completely focused on her. 

“There’s no use calling upon  _ her _ ,” he spat, accusation accenting his statement as though it carried so much weight. “She is no better than the rest of them.”

Great. A naysayer. Just what she needed in a moment like this. She could thank the Twelve she was smart enough not to defend herself or give in to the temptation now dangling delectably in front of her face. 

The refugees turned and looked at each other growing noticeably more confused. Questioning gazes drifted between her and the Duskwight, who was now hopping up onto a few boxes to rise above the growing crowd. Whispers rippled among them as they waited for their Warrior of Light to deny this fool of a man. 

“Come now,  _ Warrior. _ Tell us for whom you truly fight? Or do they hold your tongue?” Cold eyes turned upon her, the Duskwight sneering as the rest of the crowd echoed his concern. 

Well, this was a right bloody mess. Damned if she stood up for them, claiming to be on their side with no food or coin to give them at the moment and damned if she didn’t because that would only prove his point however false it was. Either way, it mattered not to the starving people desperate for relief from their woes. 

“As I stated before, allow me to have this evening to hunt for you. I cannot promise to feed you all-” she began as calmly as she could, hoping they could hear the sincerity in her voice. 

“Bullshit! You took in all those Doman bastards without a second thought!” the Elezen yelled, eyes now burning with rage. “How is it they are allowed food, water, and shelter while we are left here to starve and rot?”

Carine didn’t have an answer to that. She had been under the assumption that Teledji Adeledji was forming a bill to grant shelter for the refugees at Carteneau. Though that had only been just over a month ago, she had assumed that he would have already made progress on helping these poor people. 

Apparently she had thought wrong. 

“Enough!” a shout called out. A tall, elegant blonde Elezen dressed in Immortal Flames armor stepped out into the crowd, sword raised. Her sharp eyes glared at the Duskwight through circle spectacles while her hand rested over the hilt of her sword, daring him to make a move. “Break it up, or shall I do it for you?”

Carine recognized her at once as Eline Roaille, Raubahn’s second-in-command officer of the Immortal Flames. She also recognized her as a fellow bride of the Garlean marriage treaty. 

“Ah, the Bull of Ala Mhigo sending his Immortal Flame bitch to fight his battles now?” the Duskwight growled. His arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head, defiant in every movement. 

“This  _ bitch _ would gladly see you out of her city should you not comply to orders,” Eline countered cooly. “Though I cannot say I wouldn’t mind teaching you a lesson in obedience along the way should you have need of it.”

Her grip tightened on her hilt and Carine offered a prayer to the Twelve that there would not be bloodshed in her name today. Thankfully, they seemed to hear her as the Duskwight eventually shrugged and jumped from his post. “Suit yourself. But you and yours have it coming. The Ivy has seen to that,” he told her, shoving his shoulder into hers as he passed by. 

“What are you waiting for?” Eline looked around. “The show is over. There is nothing more for you to see here, or do I need to personally escort you all outside the gates?”

The threat carried little weight, but the refugees quickly dispersed. They disappeared into dark alleys and around corners, probably to find some other poor soul to beg from. Carine watched them go, heart aching in her chest. How could she offer them hope when she was but one person? How could they see her as their savior when she did nothing to help them directly?

The better question was, how could she help them at all?

Eline dusted off her clothes as she walked up to the Warrior of Light, shaking her head in disgust all the while. “You would think they would have more praise for you than that, given everything you have done for them.”

She could hardly agree. “Desperate times make even the best of us question the Twelve. I feel they are justified in questioning a simple mortal such as myself.”

Eline chuckled. “There’s nothing simple about you, Lady Monteil. Few can say they have slain one Primal, let alone all those you have brought low. Even fewer can say they released a nation from Garlemald’s iron grip.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Carine jumped down from Buck’s back, patting him affectionately on his shoulder as she took his reins and lead him behind the Immortal Flame. “Has it always been this bad?”

“No,” the other woman shook her head. “It grew worse once news of the Domans seeking shelter in Eorzea spread. Even worse when they learned the Scions of the Seventh Dawn gave them shelter. They feel you and yours are playing favorites.”

“That’s hardly the case,” she murmured and sighed. “I need to help them…”

Eline rounded on her, a stern look in her stormy grey eyes. “You have no obligation to them, and to show them favor would only make things worse for everyone else in this city. It would be ill-advised to allow you to try and please everyone.”

True or not, Carine wasn’t likely to listen. These people obviously needed aid from whomever was willing to give it. With her work done in Coerthas for now, she could easily petition Minfilia to allow her to do some work with these people, hunting and gathering for them as best she could. Even her mother might be willing to help if she didn’t have a heavy workload. And best of all, it would keep Nero from knowing the exact location of the Rising Stones. 

“So, how have you been adjusting?” she asked, changing the subject. Eline’s eyes narrowed with a brief flash of anger before she looked away. 

“It has...taken some time.”

Carine couldn’t say she knew too much about the Elezen guiding her through the streets of Ul’dah to the barracks. She knew that she had been made Raubahn’s right hand woman when the Immortal Flames had been reinstated just before the battle of Carteneau and she knew that she had been among the first women drafted in the bloody marriage treaty with the Garleans. She had been kept in Castrum Oriens during their occupation, which meant that Carine had never seen the woman during her own time behind castrum walls. 

Like most of the brides, Eline had lost everything upon her return. Thankfully, she hadn’t been married and all her family had hailed from Ishgard. Raubahn, being the generous soul that he was, had taken the woman back within his ranks, offering her the promise of her old position should she prove capable of handling it. It seemed that in the year since her release into Eorzea, she had done just that. 

Which made her one of the terribly few success stories that Carine knew. 

“If you ever need anything, anyone to talk to that understands, you may always reach out to me,” she offered. Eline stiffened, taken aback by the kindness of her words before nodding and smiling appreciatively. 

It wasn’t long before Carine could see the caravan, now empty of its occupants, parked outside the base of the Immortal Flames. Alphinaud was chatting with Ilberd and Raubahn, while Thancred seemed to have already disappeared on whatever mission it was he was meant to be on. If her suspicions were correct, it most likely had to do with the state of affairs currently outside the gates of Ul’dah and all the people clamoring to get in. 

Upon seeing her, the three of them stopped what they had been talking about and waved her over, none of them the least bit concerned that she could have been ripped apart by a mob. 

_ I guess that’s what I get for being some kind of legend, _ she thought to herself, not too kindly either. It wouldn’t hurt for them to care just a little about her well being, blessed by a goddess or not. 

“Good to see you, lass. You’re looking well,” Raubahn smiled warmly down at her, patting her on the shoulders with a large hand. “I take it the refugees kept you held up?”

“Aye, ser,” Eline saluted him. “They grow more bold by the day.”

“Seven bloody Hells,” the Highlander cursed. “Apologies I was not there to escort you myself. I’ve had to increase patrols thanks to them.”

Carine frowned. “But what happened to Teledji’s bill? It was to my understanding he was going to make use of them in exchange for their basic needs met? I feel as though there are more of them now than ever before.”

“Aye, you would be right,” he sighed. “And Teledji has tried to construct a bill worth reading, but Lord Lolorito denies it at every turn. Apparently what he proposes is none better than what is currently offered to them.”

“How could it be hardly better? They are dying in your streets!” she shook with her anger and cursed herself for trusting in that tiny, moustache child’s plan.

“Even I must echo her concerns, old friend,” Ilberd chimed in, crossing his arms over his thick chest. “These are our people, not bloody Garleans. They deserve better.”

“You think I am not aware?” Raubahn turned on him. “There is little I can do to act. My hands are bound between my duty to the Syndicate and the Monetarists and their laws.”

“Ahem, if I may?” Alphinaud cleared his throat, stepping in between them all with his hand raised to his lips. “If there is aught the Scions can do to help your plight, you have but to ask it of us, Raubahn. Meanwhile, would it not be wise to allow them some supplies so that they may hunt and gather for themselves? It needn’t be much.”

Raubahn shook his head, running his thick fingers through the tight, dark braids against his scalp. “Even that has been denied in fear of a revolt. Tensions are high, as I am sure you can see.”

_ Mayhap if you would all just listen to me for once, we might not have this problem, _ Carine growled inwardly as she placed her hands on her hips. “Very well. Then what is it you  _ can _ do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He turned to her, a look of despair that ran so deep that it cut her like a knife. The commander was suffering, torn between duty and doing what was right. She immediately felt guilty for thinking so harshly of him, now that she realized he took no pleasure in his position and that it was hardly one kept out of comfort. He wanted it to end just as badly as she did, if not more due to his ties to Ala Mhigo.

“For now we focus our attention on catching the Ivy,” he said, changing the subject. “Until we know who they are, Ul’dah is not safe.”

She tilted her head at that. “So you’ve narrowed it down to someone located here?”

Ilberd smiled, bright teeth flashing against his darker complexion with a look that said they knew much more than that. “Aye,” he told her with a wide grin. “Not only that, but someone within the Immortal Flames.”

Carine raised both her brows, looking between Raubahn and Eline as though either of them had the answer. “If you have narrowed it down that far, how have you not discovered who they are yet?”

“That’s the problem. The Ivy is crafty and has ties to everything. Our patrols have been ambushed by Garleans as of late, meaning those bloody bastards know our routes and when to strike.”

That wasn’t the news she wanted to hear, not with Nero being so close by. Raubahn went on to tell her how shipments and weapons were being stolen on a near daily basis now. It seemed every time they switched the routes and patrols, the Garleans knew about it and were ready. He was under the suspicion that the remnants of the XIVth legion were trying to arm themselves for a surprise counter strike against Eorzea when they were least expecting it, and with no real way to keep up with their numbers, it was impossible to tell if they would prove successful or not. 

“As if that weren’t bad enough, I have every reason to believe they have aligned with the Monetarists as well,” Raubahn finished. 

“And what, pray tell, would the Monetarists gain from having someone like the Ivy on their side?” Alphinaud scoffed. 

The Highlander’s face clouded over, eyes darkening with an anger that sent a chill down Carine’s spine. Raubahn was no slouch of a man. He was taller than she, even if not by much, and nothing but rippling muscle under his dark, scar ridden skin. He could easily tear someone apart, or cut them in half with his battleaxe if he took the notion, and in this moment, he looked damn near ready to do just that.

“Two nights ago a riot broke out at the Sapphire Exchange,” he told them, voice gritty with emotion. “The refugees had outright attacked a lone Brass Blade patrolling the markets there. They had weapons, crude as they were, but efficient enough to kill several innocent merchants and bystanders. I have not seen the likes of a massacre like it in all my years and would do well to never repeat the memory.”

Carine’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard. Even Alphinaud paled at the story, the arrogant disbelief quickly gone from his features. This was bad. Worse than bad. It was one thing to fear rebellion when you had a thousand or more people begging at your door, but it was quite another if those people were given weapons that could kill and maim. She had seen the desperation in their faces, their  _ need _ to be fed and given shelter. Put a blade in any of their hand and any rage towards those that passed them by every day would be but a fuse on a firebomb lit.

If the Ivy wasn’t taken down and the distribution of arms ceased, Ul’dah would no doubt have a bloody future awaiting, and they already had enough bodies lining the walls. 

“That doesn’t explain the connection you made to the heretics,” Alphinaud noted. “What part do they play in the grand scheme of things?”

“The best I wager is that the shipments the heretics plunder in Coerthas is where they are getting their supply of weapons,” Ilberd offered. “Or at least they are being used to replace what the Garleans had left over while those broken bits are being given to the refugees.”

That made sense, but to what avail? That didn’t seem to help the heretics in the slightest if they only worked for the Ivy, though she couldn’t quite understand what the Ivy was gaining from helping the Garleans either. 

Honestly, not one bit of this made sense to Carine. 

“If you have need of help interrogating the prisoner,” she looked up at Ilberd with a smile. “I’d like to bring this Ivy down for the sake of those outside the gates.”

He curled his lip into a gracious smile and nodded, “Of course. You will be the first to know what I learn. For now, if I may?” he turned to look at his old friend. “We have a lot of catching up to do. Care to join me for some drinks? It has been a long journey…”


	17. New Friends and Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“But I do want you to know that you aren’t alone and you don’t have to do this alone. Not while I’m around at least.”_
> 
> Carine makes a new friend and her and Thancred finally have a small heart to heart :)

It took no more than two days before Carine finally snapped. Luckily it was at no one in particular as she stood there, pacing the length of her luxury inn room. She felt trapped, like an animal in a cage, all coiled tension and seeking an escape. Crystal Braves guarded her door thinking they were doing her a favor by keeping admirers and fans away when the truth was that Alphinaud needed eyes on her at all times. 

All because she wore that godsdamned ring. 

Hands pulled through her silver locks, braiding and unbraiding as they itched for something to do. Ilberd and Alphinaud were getting nowhere with this heretic they had captured and try as she might to convince them  _ she _ could urge some words from him, they turned her down. “ _ The Warrior of Light’s talents were better used elsewhere _ ,” Ilberd had stated with a wide grin. He believed those words, believed he was doing her a favor by saving her the trouble of dirty work. 

How fucking wrong he was. 

Deep down, she knew that this was part of her punishment for her crimes. It was to protect her and to protected everyone else around her even more. So long as she wore that ring and kept that promise to Nero, she was a threat to the Eorzean way of life. Keeping her locked away out of sight was the best chance they had at finding Nero before he found her, at least that’s what the Scions likely told themselves. 

Carine knew that Nero was far too clever to fall for that, if he was even keeping an eye on her at all. 

Turning her heel, she followed the small invisible trail she had created that lead from the foot of the large bed tucked neatly with snow white sheets and rich, Dalamud red blankets to the square wooden table complete with four matching wooden chairs. Landscape paintings hung against the tan walls that met with a dark, wooden floor. Ornate rugs that matched the rich decour softened the sounds of her boots as she glanced back and forth between the heavy oak door and the bow on her bed. 

It took all of a split second to make up her mind. 

Anyone that knew Carine knew she couldn’t sit still when there were things to be done. It was why her mother had sent her off to be trained with the archer’s guild in Gridania when she was still but a girl. She hadn’t the patience to watch plants grow, nor the capacity to practice magic every day. Her hands constantly moved and  _ needed _ something in them to give her focus. And the archer’s guild had given her the perfect outlet. She had learned to hunt, to track, and had learned patience in a way that allowed her to move up through the ranks at a pace faster than any student before her. 

So it would come as little surprise that keeping the Elezen trapped in a room while Ilberd and Alphinaud played good guy/bad guy with a criminal would end with her eventual escape. 

Surprisingly, it was easy to give the Crystal Braves watching her the slip. Only occasionally would Wilred look in on her, and the last time he had, Carine had pulled on her sleeping clothes and suggested she would go to bed early. Just as he had shut the door, she had pulled off her covers and changed quickly into her light leathers and boots. All it took was a little pillow fluffing to make it look like she was sound asleep. It wasn’t even hard to open the window and use the intricate lattice work on the building to shimmy her way down to the ground.

Night had long fallen on the city of Ul’dah. The last of the people walked from the closing vendors on the streets in favor of the local taverns and bars where exotic dancing girls took the stage or good food and drink were to be had. As they all had destinations in mind, they paid no attention to the cloaked woman with a bow strung to her back as she walked the cobbled streets towards the gates that lead to central Thanalan.

It took all of her willpower to avoid the hungry stares and desperate pleas of the poor and downtrodden that lined the streets. Their thin arms reached out holding broken bowls, their lips dry and cracked from the constant heat of the day and the lack of clean drinking water. Alphinaud could suggest that Ul’dah didn’t need her interference all he wanted, but from where she stood they sure looked like they needed it. 

Ul’dah, out of all the city-states, had suffered the hardest from the impact of the Garleans forced ejection from Eorzea. Because Thanalan had some of the richest culture and had the most monetary gain thanks to its unique political system, the Garleans had mainly taken to controlling it over Limsa Lominsa, even though the Admiral of the Maelstrom had control of the main port. It had been easy for them to set up their outposts and gradually buy business after business until the region was nearly entirely dependent upon them.

But that had gone to the Void the moment the treaty was broken. 

Now only skeletons of their occupation remained, leaving a grim reminder of what had been. The Monetarists tried to make the best of the situation, using their untouched wealth to buy up the businesses that had once been owned by hardworking families and turning them around for profit, but that created a new unrest amongst themselves. They squabbled over land, arguing and feuding as though they were entitled to it all. And sure, mayhap they were if they sank their riches into these broken businesses, but there was no reason to drag the entire poor population down in the process. 

And that’s why Carine hated Ul’dah so deeply. It wasn’t just because there were refugees lining the walls both inside and outside the city. Twelve knew that Gridania and Limsa Lominsa suffered the same fate though not quite to the degree that Ul’dah had. It wasn’t even that there were too many people living in too small a space to really be comfortable, not everywhere could be as wild and free as her Gridanian home. It was simply because the people here had all the resources in the world to help those that needed it and simply chose not to because there was no profit in it for them.

It was their choice, of course, and one that made sense, but that didn’t mean Carine had to like it. Not when they called upon her power to save them at every turn in exchange for almost nothing other than their gratitude.

Wind whipped at her cloak, threatening to pull the hood from over her face as she clutched it tightly around her being. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the smell of a summer rain drifted over the dry landscape. For any other hunter this would present as an ill omen, but Carine knew this was a blessing in disguise. Night already meant the roads would be clear of merchants and adventurers. Rain ensured it.

Not just that, but rain also meant an increase in activity from the local oborons and efts that lived in the shallow streams. They weren’t the tastiest of the prey that wandered in Thanalan, but the hammer beaks would likely already be roosting and the giant tortoises would use far too many arrows to make the trip worth it. 

It didn’t take long for her to find a nice little cove near a cave where the amphibious beings lived. Alrighty they had begun stirring, the cooler night air drawing them from their moist caverns that protected them from the unforgiving rays of Thanalan’s sun. Soft splashes and grunts from the beasts echoed as Carine perched herself over the mouth of the cave, keeping her hunter’s eyes trained on the gentle stream of water below for any activity.

As the first eft emerged, its soft rounded head peeking with its too many eyes from the shelter of the cave, the huntress loosed an arrow, burying it deep within its cranium. The creature stopped cold, almost purposefully, a last sigh escaping from a recently inhaled breath as it sank into the cool waters. Others of its kind paid it no mind as they also walked forward, their webbed feet slapping against the smooth, algae-slick rocks in search of the small fish they feasted on.

Most people might find the task incredibly boring, but not Carine. They were easy prey, quickly felled by a single arrow, but it was no easy task making sure they were none the wiser of her presence. One wrong move, one misplaced arrow, and the shy, nocturnal creatures would quickly retreat to their den where they would remain until the next evening. She liked the challenge and the repetitive nature of it all. It reminded her of home and the days where all she had to worry about was whether or not she would make it in time for supper. 

Back before her eyes had been opened to the true horrors of this world. 

Six black efts lay in the water at her feet before the others grew agitated. The salamander-like beings weren’t the most intelligent things to begin with, but Carine knew well enough it wasn’t their dead among them that had put them on edge. More splashing came from up the stream, from a much smaller creature by the sounds of it. Quickly she nocked another arrow, relying on her sensitive ears and superior vision to watch for the silvery flash of scales in the darkness of night. Lightning streaked across the sky, proving her assumption true as a small wave of ravenous oberon swam towards her kills. 

Arrow after arrow flew, landing true on each carnivorous fish as they leapt over each other in an attempt to scavenge the easy targets in the stream. A few managed to dodge her arrows, if only because the night shielded her vision, but by the time she was out of ammunition, there were no more creatures to slay. 

Satisfied with her handiwork, Carine jumped down from the mouth of the cave to collect her bounty. Six huge efts and a nearly a dozen oborons would feed a good many of the refugees. Their skin and scales weren’t worth much in way of trading as eft skin didn’t tan well at all, but their eyes were used for alchemy as was their blubber. Oberon teeth would make useful tools for the people to use if they needed them badly enough. 

There was one problem the Warrior of Light had failed to consider, however, and that was exactly  _ how _ she was going to transport everything from here to the gates of Ul’dah. 

While leaving the carcasses behind wasn’t ideal in fear that other wild animals would come to collect them for their own, it was the only choice Carine had as she made her way to Black Brush Station just a couple malms from where she had been hunting. Most travelers would be taking up lodging in Coffin and Coffer for the evening to wait out the rain, and she bet there would be someone willing to take coin for traveling at this time.

She had barely made it half a malm before a large cart pulled by a nice pair of draft Chocobos pulled up alongside her. The driver, some Hyur by the looks of him, slowed their pace to match her own, turning his head to wave at her with a smile. She nodded back, careful to keep her hood over her face, but kept walking. By the looks of it, this was a merchant’s cart and the last thing she wanted to do was haggle prices over what it might cost to have them deliver the meat to the needy.

“Ho there friend! A little late to be travelin’ out here on your own, even for an adventurer. And with a storm on the way! Might you take a care and give an old man company on his way to Black Brush?” a dark skinned Hyur asked from the side of the cart. His smile was kind and genuine, spreading beneath a blond well-trimmed beard as he waved her down.

“I can make due, but thank you for the generous offer,” she politely declined. Merchants were always kinder when there was a chance of profit in it for them. Of course, luck wouldn’t stay on her side as a particularly strong gust of wind hit her head on, blowing back her cowl before she ever had the chance to secure it in place. Though braided, her silver hair trailed out behind her, glinting in another flash of lightning before she could put it back in place.

Carine knew it was already too late as green eyes widened in surprise and elation. “You! You’re her! The Eikon Slayer!”

At his words, the driver of the cart pulled back on the reins, bringing the Chocobos to a sudden halt. She had two options. One, she could run ahead and try and disappear in Black Brush Station. It was risky as it was a rather small settlement and she would potentially have to lose all her kills in favor of avoiding more recognition. Two, she could stay and try and reason with the man, mayhap bribe him with what precious little gil she kept on her person and some signed trash that might be worth something to someone else. 

“Do you have to announce it to all of Thanalan?” she hissed, choosing option two. Had there not been people in need of her effort this evening, she would have gladly sacrificed it all in favor of anonymity. 

His eyes lit up at once, quickly scanning their surroundings as if someone potentially had heard him. No one was around as far as the eye could see, not that they could see  _ that _ far in this dismal lighting, but he hunkered down and dropped his voice all the same. “My lady, it would be very poor form of a man to allow a woman to walk alone in the dead of night. At least allow me this in thanks for all you have done for us.”

She couldn’t say no to the sincerity in his eyes or the plea in his words. Besides, is cart was  _ plenty _ big enough to carry everything that she had killed earlier. So she smiled at him as sweetly as she could and accepted his hand. “Mayhap it would be rude of me to take advantage of your generosity, sir…?” she began, fishing for his name to keep up the friendliness of conversation. 

This absolutely tickled the man. To think the Warrior of Light cared enough to ask him of his name! Carine honestly found it a bit silly, the way commonfolk would treat her as though she were some sort of celebrity deemed worthy of worship, but tonight that would work in her favor as long as she could play the part. 

“The name’s Brendt,” he puffed out his chest with pride. “A humbled pleasure it is to aid you this evenin’.”

He was kind. Genuinely kind in how he helped her into his cart and patted a seat for her in welcome. His hospitality warmed her to him even when all she wanted was to keep her distance. Mayhap she was too quick to judge him. “I should be thanking you, Master Brendt,” she smiled, sitting gracefully where he had motioned before. “But I fear I must take advantage of your kindness.”

A warm, jovial laugh bubbled from his chest, encouraging her own giggle before she joined him. “You take advantage of  _ my _ kindness? Do you even know who you are?” he asked, though he wanted no answer. “Ask anything you wish of me, Warrior of Light, and I shall give it to you if it is within my power.”

Carine thought for a moment, finger tapping along her cheek as she determined the best course of action. Alphinaud was always onto her for acting without thought and now was the time for her to prove him wrong. As lightning flashed across the sky, her plan came together and she looked towards the man sitting across from her.

“I have six black efts and nearly a dozen oboron kills around this bend and near the bridge. Would you mind transporting them to Ul’dah for me?” she raised a brow, testing him with a large request right off.

Brendt’s green eyes widened and as he pulled at his beard, Carine began to wonder what sort of counter proposal he might throw back at her. He was a merchant after all, and they rarely did things without some sort of compensation. 

“Need I ask why you have so many dead things to transport?” 

She shrugged, “No, but I don’t mind telling you so long as you promise to keep this all a secret.”

He considered this, nodding his head and pursing his lips in the process. “Deal.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I’m staying in Ul’dah indefinitely and my arrival has brought some dark things to my attention,” her fingers tapped along the wooden bench at her side. The lone lantern that swung overhead illuminated his face for her to focus on as she worked out her proposal. “People are starving and no one seems to be doing anything about it, but I have been forbidden to act in their favor lest  _ someone somewhere _ feel that I am doing more for one than I would do for another.

“So here’s my proposal to you, if you have an interest that is,” she watched him, looking for any sign of confirmation. She certainly had his attention, given the way he now leaned forward in anticipation of whatever deal the Warrior of Light was willing to make with him. “I come out here every night I am able, you pick up and deliver my kills to the people at the gates...one gate each night. I cannot promise much pay, but I can guarantee that you will be helping me save lives.”

It was a risky offer, Carine knew that, but it was the only one she could hope to make at the moment. If this had people getting the food they needed to survive, then whatever he might offer in exchange would be worth it. If she could afford his price, that was. There was no denying that she was asking far too much of him. He was risking his goods as well as his life by traveling in the dead of night where poachers and bandits could easily ambush him. She was also asking him to potentially ruin his nice cart, as dead things leaked less than desirable fluids everywhere. Last, but not least, she was asking him to keep her sneaking out and knowing her at all a secret from anyone he might know or wish to tell. 

If Carine were in his position, she wasn’t sure she would be so willing.

“Is that all?” he asked, eyes lighting up as he smiled her way, throwing the Elezen for a loop she hadn’t expected. 

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, voice just above a whisper in surprise at his words. 

He rolled his shoulders and then ordered his driver to turn the cart around and go back to the bridge where the efts and oborons were. “You act as though you are askin’ the world of me when it is I that is eternally in your debt,” he turned back her her, all kindness and smiles. “My sister was one of those Drafted. Not only did you bring her back to my family, but you showed those Garleans their place. That doesn’t even cover you defeatin’ Ifrit. So if you want me haulin’ dead things in the night and forgettin’ I saw you, then consider us square.”

Her heart swelled in her chest and her eyes burned with emotion as she looked at him in a new light. “I don’t know how to thank you…”

He held his hand up, silencing her before she could go on. “And like you said, no one is helpin’ those poor folk dyin’ in the streets. Someone ought to, and if this is my way of repayin’ the Warrior of Light for a debt that is owed, then so be it.”

Carine allowed the subject to drop, but she swore to herself she wouldn’t forget this man or his loyalty to her. Whatever he might need, she would find a way to learn of it and make sure it was provided for this kindness and eagerness to help her. 

It took a few bells to gather up all the kills she had made and then head back to Ul’dah. Before they ever approached the gate, Carine jumped off the cart, leaving behind her pouch of gil for him to find once he got through distributing the meat to the needy outside the gates. She followed behind at a reasonable distance, ignoring the distraction he caused as he announced free meat for the starving and the needy. 

People lined up, their frail bodies pressing together as they rejected rest in favor of whatever it was this merchant had to offer. As she passed, their eyes met and he gave her a meaningful wink before turning to the lines formed before him. 

She was certain there wasn’t a better man in the world for the job. Thank Blessed Nophica for that.

 

***

 

Carine breathed a sigh of relief as she entered her room from the window. Everything looked untouched, not that she could see very far. Quietly she tiptoed over to the desk to lean her bow against it and nearly jumped out of her skin as a lamp turned on and light flooded the entire room. 

“And just where have  _ you _ been?”

She whipped around at the sound of the voice and found Thancred seated in one of the plush chairs by the bookcase near the door to her room. He was wearing his usual black tunic, though it looked a little worse for wear at the moment with the dust and dirt clinging to the once white fabric of the undershirt. His brow was raised, fingers tented in front of him as though he had caught her in the middle of an act so scandalous even  _ he _ was impressed. 

“Seven Hells, Thancred! You scared the piss out of me!” her hand flew to her chest as it heaved, heart pounding away beneath her fingers. 

Hazel eyes glanced down, bringing a blush to her cheeks as he grinned from ear to ear like the devilish rogue he was. “Apparently not.”

“You know what I mean,” she growled. “What are you doing here? I thought you had meetings and appointments with Raubahn and the Sultana?”

Thancred stretched, back popping as he stood from his seat and sauntered over to her with an indifferent shrug. His movement had been there to distract, to pull her away from the questions she wanted to ask and instead focus her attention on the bottle of wine in his hand. “I don’t have appointments with them  _ all _ the time, you know. And mayhap I just wanted to spend time with a friend?”

“And just how long have you been waiting on this  _ friend _ of yours to show up?” Her hands went to her hips as she glared. 

“Not long,” he replied honestly, meeting her gaze without flinching. “But long enough to know that someone has been quite the naughty girl.”

She looked down to the red carpet, unable to lie straight to his face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Glasses clinked together and she heard the soft  _ pop _ as the Hyur opened the bottle. “Of course you don’t. It isn’t as though you snuck off to feed the hungry when orders were for you not to interfere.”

The Elezen swallowed hard, a chill racing up her spine. “I suppose you intend on telling Alphinaud then?” she asked, her voice clipped and short as she cautiously eyed the wine glass now being offered to her. 

“As if I had any right,” he scoffed, nodding to his offering. “Care to spend the rest of your evening with a fool?”

Carine resigned with a heavy sigh, propping her bow against the wall and taking a seat in one of the wooden chairs that sat next to the table. She couldn’t claim to be a particularly bright person, but it didn’t take a student of Baldesion to know that Thancred wasn’t here just to keep a watchful eye on the unrest in Ul’dah. So long as she wore that bloody ring around her neck, the Warrior of Light forfeited every right to privacy she thought she earned. 

“I suppose there are worse things than drinking the night away with a fellow Scion,” she stated as she took the glass and sipped. The rich, sweet mix of fleshy apples, cinnamon, spices and a hint of aged oak settled nicely on her tongue, bringing a mischievous smile to her lips. “Though I do believe I need more than one bottle of this if I am to be drinking with my babysitter.”

He winced at her words, pale cheeks turning various shades of pink as he sipped his own glass. “Is it truly that obvious?” he asked, shooting her an apologetic glance. He knew that  _ she _ knew he had made it obvious. The rogue was good at what he did, stealing to the shadows without a trace, listening in on those that were none the wiser. Hells, he had known she had snuck out of her room to hunt for the refugees outside the walls without her knowing or even suspecting that she had been followed. Now that she thought about it, that’s probably where the dirt came from on his clothes.

“Only to the blind, the deaf, and the foolish,” she winked, tipping her glass in his direction. “So, was it Alphinaud or Minfilia that decided they couldn’t trust me not to run off and spill precious Scion secrets to the Garleans?”

She knew she shouldn’t have been so venomous with her words and wished she could have been a bit more gentle towards him. He was only doing his duty just as Alphinaud and Minfilia were. Still, hadn’t she done enough to prove herself in their eyes? Nero being alive was her fault, she admitted that much, but it wasn’t as though he held any sort of soft spot in her heart. It was a debt repaid in her eyes, as it should be in theirs. Thancred should know that most of all. 

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, Carine. Twelve knows I am the last one to be casting stones in your direction,” he admitted, his face haunted with the memories of what Lahabrea had done while possessing his body. “We only wish to take every precaution in case things go...wrong.”

She took another drink, a longer one this time and wished that it was something stronger. In the end, it was all about protecting the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their mission to protect the realm. “Then why not just leave me in Coerthas? I was doing well there.”

“Alphinaud felt that the two of you had done all you could do for the time being. Until things with the archbishop are made clear, or that carcass over Silvertear Lake comes back to life, there is not much else that you can do to forge an alliance,” he explained. “Besides, this business with the Ivy has put everyone on edge. It wouldn’t be long before people began wondering where the Warrior of Light was with a Garlean sympathizer on the loose.”

She supposed he had a point. “We need a reliable lead before I can strike them down,” she pointed out before taking another drink. “And even then, ‘tis not my place to judge them. I am only here to be pointed in a direction and instructed to fetch.”

Thancred laughed at that, the first real one she had heard from him in a long time. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time since his possession that he had actually laughed. Ever since she had risked her life to make sure he came out of the Praetorium alive, he had been distant. He kept to himself away from the other Scions, even going as far as to avoid Minfilia’s worried gaze as she walked into a room. Talking to him had become a chore that even Urianger dreaded for he spoke precious little before disappearing altogether. 

And she couldn’t blame him for it. Because of him, the Scions had been found by the Garleans and many had been ruthlessly slaughtered. Carine remembered everything, not only the memory the Echo had shown her, but the devastation of the aftermath she witnessed with her own eyes. Though Thancred’s hand hadn’t been the one to sentence them to their deaths, the man was utterly haunted with the guilt of knowing it had been his knowledge used against them.

“I hope you know you are more to us than that,” he smiled. “Even if the rest of the world thinks of you as a mindless weapon, I am glad to consider you a friend.”

“A friend that needs babysitting?” she wiggled her brows and giggled. “If you are so sure that I am not off running Eorzean secrets to the Garleans, why not allow me to be useful to someone here?”

He nervously put his hand to the back of his neck and scratched at his pale blond hair. He didn’t want to tell her, or if he did, he knew she wouldn’t react kindly to it. 

“Well?”

“This business with the Ivy became much trickier than it was,” he replied sheepishly. “It was easily managed and disregarded as any sort of possible connection to you, but when a lead appeared in Coerthas at the time of your visit…”

Carine slammed her glass against the table, anger flaring at the implication. Thancred jumped in surprise, eyes widening as he took in the scowl that was now shooting daggers at him. “Wait, so you aren’t babysitting me because of  _ this, _ ” she began, pulling the ring that was tucked in her shirt for him to see. “But because you think I have some connection to this traitor? Or is it you think I  _ am _ the Ivy?”

The Hyur quickly raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “I didn’t say that and you didn’t let me explain,” he scolded, though there was a distinct note of fear in his voice. Great, now she had scared the poor man. It was likely he wasn’t going to open up to her ever again. “I was simply saying there was a connection. We all know you're not the one doing this. How could you know the Immortal Flames scouting rotations or checkpoints when they change weekly?”

“Then what’s the bloody connection?”

Thancred sighed and pushed back his hair hanging over his eyes. “There are several theories. One is that this is all coincidence. Mayhap the Ivy really does have the reach to dabble in the affairs of Ishgard as well as Ul’dah and with the Garleans. The chances are slim, but nothing is impossible,” he counted off on his fingers. “Another is that there is more than one person in this operation. It’s hard to believe that one person can negotiate with heretics and Garleans while having some sort of goal in mind for bringing Ul’dah low.”

That wasn’t all. He was still nervous, still on edge. “What else?”

“Well...I’ll be honest,” he said, resigning finally to just telling her. “There is a great suspicion that there is someone else out there that knows about your connection to Nero and wants to bring you down or eliminate you.”

Well  _ that _ wasn’t something she had been expecting at all. Precious few people knew anything about her lie and that was to protect her as much as it was to protect the Scions. In fact, Carine could count on both hands the amount of people that knew the truth, namely the Scions themselves and Cid, Biggs, and Wedge. Well, G’raha Tia too, but he was resting in a tower that likely wouldn’t be opened in her lifetime.

“You really think someone is trying to set me up?” she asked in a whisper, heart pounding in her chest. While it was comforting to know that people like Brendt would likely stay on her side, Carine couldn’t say the same for the Alliance leaders. Raubahn had been the only one to stand by her when Gaius had asked for her while the others had been ready to serve her up on a silver platter. If they thought she was selling secrets to the Garleans now...well she couldn’t be certain at least Merlwyb wouldn’t think it possibly true.

Thancred shrugged, “We don’t know that for sure, but it’s best that we keep our eyes on you so that someone can always vouch for your whereabouts at a moment’s notice.”

“I can’t just let those people starve, Thancred. You know I can’t stand by and let them die when I can do  _ something _ about it.”

He smiled at her, eyes twinkling so that she would know that he was on her side. “Minfilia knew you would feel that way, which is why I’m here. Besides, I owe you for saving my life at the Praetorium.”

It was her turn now to look away with guilt as he smiled at her from across the table. She licked the traces of the wine from her lips, the sweetness turning bitter on her tongue at his words. In a way he was right. Had she not spared Nero in that bloody castrum, he never would have sent the Reaper that brought both her and Thancred to safety. However, she also knew Nero had no real obligation to save her at all, let alone a fellow Scion. He chose to send aid and ultimately that had lead to this moment where two wayward souls were fidgeting with the right words to say to each other. 

“I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t come here to dredge up old unwanted memories,” Thancred nudged her arm. “But I do want you to know that you aren’t alone and you don’t have to do this alone. Not while I’m around at least.”

That was the nicest thing Carine had ever heard come from any of the Scions, at least since she had come forward about Nero. Whether it had come from the heart or the wine, it mattered not because it felt good all the same to her. Sure, they walked different paths and faced different hardships, ultimately if one could be forgiven, so could the other. 

“Thank you,” she smiled back, glad to have found herself a friend in him once more. “You...don’t know how badly I needed to hear that.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the door to her room flung open with a loud crack as Wilred and Laurentius marched in. Panic filled their eyes, their youth shining through in the wake of some event going on around them as they entered the room. 

“Apologies Mistress Monteil and Master Waters for the intrusion,” Wildred saluted them both as he stuttered out a greeting. 

“Is aught amiss?” Thancred asked, standing in their presence. 

Laurentius nodded, face ashen with worry. “You’ve been summoned to the Gate of Thal. There’s a riot...refugees are revolting now as we speak. The Flames are trying to calm them, but they will not listen to reason. The Brass Blades have now been called...”

Carine wasted no time reaching for her bow. Under her bed there were several bundles of arrows that she reached for. Thancred was already nearly out the door when she made sure to check and see if her daggers were in place. 

She prayed they would only get there in time.


	18. Of Beastmen and Garleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She never once considered that maybe Gaius had been right all along. Not until now._
> 
> When lines become blurred and the wrong things no longer seem so wrong...

“What is the meaning of this?” 

Carine listened to Eline Roaille shout over the growing whispers of the crowd as she followed Thancred along the edges of the buildings. By now, fat drops of rain were falling from the darkened sky above as thunder began to roll overhead. The surefooted rogue seemed to know exactly where he was going and gladly instructed his companion as they jumped from rooftop to rooftop until they could look down at the scene below. 

And a griseled sight it was. A good half dozen refugees armed with crude weapons that looked as though they had been scavenged from the worst wreckage sites available stood in a semicircle with their backs to the wall. Streetlights glowed around them, casting dark shadows that nearly obscured the mangled, bloody bodies of at least three Immortal Flames at their feet. 

They hadn’t come quickly enough.

“You deny us food and protection! We will not stand for this inhumane treatment any longer!” The familiar voice of the Duskwight Elezen Carine had met a few days before carried on the breeze to her. She could just make out his taller form at the head of the others, rusted spear in hand and ready to strike.

“We have afforded you every comfort that we have been given permission to and we have doubled patrols since you and yours have taken up residence here,” Eline countered, her fingers poised over the hilt of her blade. 

The Duskwight tossed back his head and laughed, the sound eerie and half crazed. “Only to protect your precious  _ residents. _ Let’s speak of your  _ protection _ to the young women that your comrades and the Brass Blades have found to their liking. They are no different to us than your precious Garleans!”

Even from where she and Thancred sat, Carine could see the look of fury pass over Eline’s face at the mention of her past. As degrading as the insult thrown at her was, the Elezen maintained her cool while the Warrior of Light looked to her companion for answers. 

“Did you know women were being raped?”

He recoiled at the question, daring not to look at her as he shook his head. “I had read the reports, but I was under the impression those allegations had been investigated,” Thancred finally replied. 

“‘Tis no bloody wonder they are pissed,” she snapped. “They are reliving everything they had hoped to avoid by coming here. What’s more, we fucking  _ knew _ what Garleans did and yet this was allowed?”

“Carine,” his voice dropped in warning, stern eyes catching her gaze. “I didn’t know. If Raubahn knew, I am sure things would have been done. Had I been aware…”

She tuned him out as she stood to her full height and jumped down onto a stack of large boxes that brought her to the scene below. Thancred cursed behind her, but she didn’t care. The Scions could play the ‘what if’ card for every occasion if they damn well wanted to, she wouldn’t. It was her job to protect the realm and the people within and she had every intention of doing that when presented the chance.

“This doesn’t have to come to violence,” Carine said, spooking the refugees where they stood. “Put down your arms and allow us to speak as equals.”

The Duskwight spat at her feet, drawing his spear and pointed it dangerously close to her face as he sneered, “Look around you, Warrior of Light. It has already come to violence. ‘Tis the only way they listen, the only way anyone will listen. Even  _ you. _ ”

She dared not move lest he take it as an act of rebellion from her. Her eyes glanced down at the jagged, dull blade of the spear tipped with blood and wondered how he acquired such a weapon. All of their weapons matched his, the worst of the worst yet still just as deadly as those hanging at the sides of the Immortal Flames. She could see it in the man’s eyes that it mattered not where he claimed his weapon, just that it was enough to get the job done as the poor men and women at his feet had learned the hard way. 

“Well, you have my complete attention now,” she said calmly, raising her hands in an act of surrender. 

Hardened silver eyes met hers, a scowl set upon the man’s face as he regarded her with caution. He didn’t trust her, not as far as he could throw her by the way he stared, but still Carine made no move to get away or take control of the situation. These people were a ticking bomb with a short fuse. One wrong move and they would lash out like the cornered animals they were, not caring who might find themselves at the end of their spears. 

Behind her, Thancred was speaking in hushed tones with Eline. His concern was the growing crowd now gathering around them. They had no idea how dangerous being here was, that or they didn’t care. An all out brawl was exciting, a thrill to be had as they left their casinos and bars in search of new entertainment. 

She wished they would just listen to the Flames and her friend for once.

“We want compensation.” It wasn’t a request, but a strict demand. “Either food enough to feed us or coin to make up for the damages our women have suffered at the hands of their greedy men.”

It was reasonable enough to her and had she been in a position of authority to give him his demands, she would have gladly done so and without regret. But she wasn’t and the promises they would be fed and taken care of weighed heavily on her tongue before she swallowed them back. 

_ Be a diplomat. Be a diplomat… _ she repeated over and over in her head.  _ What would Alphinaud suggest? Or Minfilia? _

“I cannot make that call,” she replied carefully. “But I know the people that can well enough that I can bring it to their attention.”

He shook his head, raising the spear again until it’s tip was pressing against the soft flesh under her jaw. “Word is you are the most powerful person in Eorzea. Why is it you lack the power to give us what we need?”

_ Only a man of power can steer the course of civilization. You have such power, yet you lack the resolve to put it to good use. A waste… _ Gaius van Baelsar’s words deafened her as she struggled to give him an answer. She had tested the Monetarists and the Syndicate over their treatment of their refugees, going as far as to throw away their trust in her faith that the Garleans had a better system for handling the needy. Clearly her blind faith that something would be done for them was not enough and greater action was needed. 

She never once considered that maybe Gaius had been right all along. Not until now.

“I have tried,” she admitted, dropping her gaze to avoid the disappointment in his stare. “But I have not tried hard enough. Allow me this chance to do better. For you and for the others.”

It was a plea, one nearly as desperate as his own as their resolve clashed. More rain fell upon them now, from what had started as random drops to a steady shower as she begged him with her eyes to stand down. Behind him, the other refugees seemed unsure of what to do as their leader remained silent, casting questioning looks between each other and to the Immortal Flames that had their weapons trained on them.

An eternity passed, soaking her garments to her skin and still Carine stood strong. He needed to know she was on their side. She always had been. Ever since that fateful night she met a poor starving child that had clung to her side as Ifrit was summoned before them. It had been her silent vow to prevent more children like Marni from happening. If only there were a way to convey that passion to the man so set on his current path.

The battle of determination and resolve went on as the rain poured down, drowning out everything else going on around them. She was dimly aware that Alphinaud and Ilberd had arrived, their pleas to get the whispering crowd moving falling on deaf ears. Still, she kept her eyes on the man before her, nothing else mattering in the world besides this test of wills. 

But in the end, it was she that lost.

“You have failed,” he sneered, pulling back his spear and reaching for a pouch on his side. The other refugees quickly followed his actions, pulling at their own pouches and revealing several small, glowing aether crystals within. “You may have defeated eikons, Warrior of Light, but you cannot defeat the god of destruction!”

Carine’s eyes widened as they began an ardent prayer to the heavens as one, the realization they were summoning a bloody primal right here in the streets of Ul’dah urging her to action. Panic gripped her as she shouted for everyone to leave, but her voice was lost in the sea of shouts as the crowd soon realized what was happening.

Time slowed almost as if the rain around her had paused mid fall when she turned back to the refugees calling out to Rhalgr. Instinct took over as her hand reached behind her, pulling her bow from her back. Her Blessing, reacting with the power now collecting in the crystals during the summoning, formed an arrow of blinding light. Fear trembled her lips as she released the magic, realizing far too late what she had done as the projectile collided with the forming primal. 

Aether erupted in a blaze, exploding in a thousand directions as contact was made. Despite her strength, Carine flew backwards and into the wall of screaming citizens behind her. A shrill sound blurred her vision, blinding and deafening her in the aftermath of the blow. Hands scraped against the cobblestone, the exposed skin of her palms sliced by the shards of crystals that had burst on impact, as she tried to find her center and right herself. Hands were on her, pulling and helping her as she grasped for anything to focus on.

Suddenly Thancred filled her vision, his boyish face wide with concern. His mouth was moving, but he sounded too far away that she couldn’t quite make out the words. Carine tried to focus on the shapes his lips made as he repeated himself, but she had never been good at reading lips anyway and the effort left her nauseous. 

“Carine? Are you alright?”

She nodded as she checked herself over. Nothing was broken, she could move all her fingers and toes. Her head throbbed and vision swam, but she knew from experience that would soon pass. 

“She needs a healer. Alphinaud? Blast it, where is the lad when you need him?” Ilberd’s deep, rich voice called out, making her wince as her hearing returned in full force. 

“I’ll fetch him. He’s attending those in dire need.”

_ Those in dire need? _ That didn’t seem right. How many had been injured? How badly were they injured? What had  _ happened? _

“I can help…” she mumbled, attempting to get to her feet only for Thancred to push her back down. 

“No, you need to sit. Rest. If you need to heal anyone, heal yourself,” he instructed. His voice was strange, a mixture of authority and despair as he sat in front of her. When she tried to look past him, to see what had become of the primal that was being summoned, he blocked her. His fingers grasped her jaw as he looked into her eyes. “You really ought to quit hitting your head so bloody hard.”

Carine pushed him away and tried to look again only for him to turn her cheek and examine it. Gingerly she reached up and felt a cut, but nothing at all serious from what she could tell. The action was enough to tell her all she needed to know. 

He didn’t want her to see what she had done.

People were crying out, some sobbing somewhere behind her. The Elezen figured her friend couldn’t keep her from looking back though she soon wished he had. One look and she could see several bodies lying in the street. Some were moving, crying out for help while others remained motionless. Clearly in the chaos there had been an unlucky few that had been trampled by the mob of the crowd once they all realized what was happening. 

“Carine…”

She ignored Thancred as she stood uneasily to her feet. She swayed a little, this way and that as she wiped the rain from her eyes to get a better look at everything. Just as someone had said, most likely Eline, Alphinaud was flitting from body to body determining who needed his care first and foremost. The youth looked up at her, fear and regret in the sapphire depths of his eyes before turning his attention back to those lying dead or dying at his feet from their injuries. 

Even he knew there were those that needed him more than she.

Carine then turned back around to face the refugees. The sight that welcomed her made the wine that she had drank earlier no longer agree as her stomach rolled. Every last one of them had been blown outward, their bodies lying twisted and riddled with fragments of crystals sticking out from their burned flesh. The spell she had released, her Blessing of Light, had been too close to them. There was no hope, that was plain as she staggered forward and dropped to her knees beside the Duskwight. His eyes, once so full of spite and anger and desperation, were now lifeless and dull as she cradled his head in her lap. 

She had killed him. She had killed them all with a single blast of magic given to her to  _ protect  _ them.

She didn’t even know their names.

Her stomach could handle it no more and she turned just in time to rid its contents on the street. Gentle hands helped pull back the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her braid before rubbing her back and encouraging her to get it all out. When she had finished, she leaned heavily into the strong form of Ilberd, whispering her apologies as her strength waned.

“Come now, lass. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I need to help. They need proper burials…” Her voice was weak, fragile, frail. She didn’t even recognize it as her own.

“They’ll see it done. And if they don’t, then I bloody well will if I have to dig their graves myself,” he promised, his resolve a thousand times stronger than her own. 

“And Rhalgr?” She wanted to make sure that he wasn’t coming, that their deaths had not been in vain.

Ilberd helped her to her feet and allowed her to lean upon him as he lead her down an alley and away from the stares of those that had witnessed her power firsthand for the first time. “You stopped him.”

It was all she could do to make her feet move one step at a time. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was all her or if Ilberd was the one making her move forward, but she never paused long enough to find out. The way back to the Hourglass Inn was longer than she remembered it being, probably because her Highlander companion made sure to take every back alley through the disquieted city now that every fool that had heard the explosion was making their way to see it for themselves. His consideration was greatly appreciated, even as he helped her in through the door to the kitchens to keep her away from everyone that might have questions. 

She likely didn’t have the answers anyway.

Wilred was the first to greet them as Ilberd helped her up the stairs and to the door to her room by offering his own shoulder to help carry her. Carine was more than capable of walking, but she just couldn’t quite convince her body of that as they sat her on the edge of her bed. The poor lad was a frenzied mess as he worried over her like a hen over her eggs. No amount of telling him she was and would be fine would satisfy his need to check her over. Finally Ilberd sent him away to fetch some food and drink from the kitchens if he wanted to help. Carine wasn’t sure if she could stomach food at the moment, but she was too relieved to have her personal space again to complain. 

“Where are Thancred and Alphinaud?”

“Likely trying to placate the crowd with what answers they can afford, I reckon,” Ilberd replied. 

“I made a right mess of things, didn’t I?” Carine tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace as the dead eyes of the Elezen haunted her memory.

“Aye now lass, you stopped a summoning in the middle of the bleedin’ city. Had you not been here, things would have been much worse.” His words of assurance did nothing to rid her of the guilt clawing at her from the inside out. People had died because of her, because she hadn’t been capable of de-escalating the situation before it was too late. She couldn’t save those Flames, she couldn’t save those refugees. How in Seven Hells was she supposed to maintain peace in the realm if she couldn’t protect the people from themselves?

_ Do you truly not see the error of your beliefs? If your gods were the benevolent beings you believed them to be, why is there poverty amongst you? _

Sickness curled her stomach, paling her skin as cold sweat beaded at her brow at the memory of Gaius’ words. The Legatus had warned her of this very situation. He had given her the power of knowledge to prevent it from happening and like the bloody fool she was, she had ignored him in favor of thinking him a fanatic. So convinced was she that the Primal situation in Eorzea was thanks to the Ascians and the Garleans working together that she never considered anyone that wasn’t in a beast tribe capable of such a thing.

And yet here she was, having just lived it.

“What do we do, Ilberd? How can I fix this?” she asked, desperately pushing back the tears that burned her eyes.

He ran his hands over his head with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know if you can. ‘Tis best to let the Scions handle this. You did what you were supposed to do.”

“Did I?” She didn’t mean to sound so pathetic, but she couldn’t help the despair as she held her hands over her face. 

_ You would continue to see me as the enemy when I would house your poor and feed those starving? When I would take those that cannot do for themselves and shape them into productive members of society? Would you so prefer for them to die at your gates begging for food and shelter rather than give them the basic needs and tools for survival? A wonder they call you a hero. _

A fucking wonder indeed.

Carine’s sulking was interrupted as the door to her room opened again. Both Alphinaud and Thancred came in, their faces pale and weary, but otherwise whole. Thancred wasted no time coming to her side and checking her over, this time not trying to distract her from the chaos she had caused while Alphinaud discussed something in low tones that she couldn’t make out. 

“How’s the head?” the Midlander asked, thumb tracing over the cut on her cheek. 

“Better now.” She pushed him away, sick of being tended to like she deserved the attention. “Please tell me those people aren’t piled up with the other nameless refugees dead at the gates.”

“They are for now,” he replied. “But we will take care of everything in the morning. Raubahn is seeing to the clean up now personally.” 

She wasn’t sure if it was the plea in her voice or the look in her eyes that seemed to worry her friend, and frankly she didn’t care. “Ilberd and I will see to it they get a proper burial. I will not have them piled like trash waiting to be disposed of for wild animals to eat. They had lives and dignity too.”

And that was when the dam finally broke. Two fat tears spilled over, rolling slowly down her cheek and stinging at the cut before dripping from her chin. That was what hurt the most. These were people that had fled a lifetime that promised nothing but misery only to find themselves at the bottom end of a pool of shit. They had come with dreams and hopes of a better future only to have it thrown in their face that they were not worthy all because they hailed from Ala Mhigo. Their lives were cut far too short because they were forced into desperation just like the beast tribes that had summoned the eikons for their survival. 

“Shh, Carine, it’s going to be alright. It’s not your fault,” Thancred pulled her in, hugging her and misunderstanding her tears. Of course it was her fault. She had the power to change things and yet she relied on everyone else to make those changes for her. Sharp as her tongue was and as biting as her words could be, it wasn’t enough to get through to those that she thought could make a difference. 

And she was utterly helpless because she didn’t know where to start.

“Seven bloody Hells, are you sure?” Ilberd’s growl cut through her sorrow and guilt, his fist hitting the wall causing her to jump. 

Thancred never loosened his grip, but he did turn his head towards their companion. “Please tell me we are done with fighting for the night? I daresay Carine has had quite enough violence for one evening, if not all of them.”

Alphinaud shook his head. “I was just informing him of what I had gleaned from my questioning. It seems our Ivy is a very busy person.”

“How do you mean?”

Carine gently pushed Thancred’s body away from her in favor of looking at the young Elezen and listening to what he had to say. Surely there was no way this incident was connected to the Ivy, was there?

“Whilst Ilberd and I were questioning the heretic for information regarding this Garlean agent, Raubahn had received word of crystals being stolen from one of the coffers of a wealthy Monetarist,” Alphinaud explained. “He conducted an investigation and as it turns out, the crystals used in the attempted summoning were the very same ones stolen. And that isn’t even the worst of it. The weapons the refugees used? Confiscated and broken pieces acquired by the Brass Blades over the years, though they were never reported stolen.”

“What does that mean? And what’s the connection to the Ivy?” Carine wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She could use a distraction right now, or someone that really deserved to be at the end of her arrow of light.

“It means that it’s possible the Monetarists are working with them,” Ilberd finished for her friend, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl.

Thancred jumped back in surprise. “How in Seven Hells do you come to that conclusion?”

“Easy. The Brass Blades are hired out by the Monetarists as an extra force here in Ul’dah. The Immortal Flames take care of Thanalan while the Brass Blades take care of Ul’dah, right? Well, I was speaking with one of their own when he mentioned to me that they had a sudden patrol change just bells before their shift,” Alphinaud told them. “To my understanding, the small trio of Flames were meant to be patrolling with the Blades, but for some reason the Blades never showed. Made for an easy ambush for refugees armed with weapons they shouldn’t have from storage guarded by the men that weren’t there.”

Carine didn’t even have to ask why they would do such a thing. They had practically told her the day she was in that meeting with them that something like this would happen, though she never considered it to be by their doing. Just like the Garleans antagonized the beast tribes into summoning their gods, the Monetarists had made life unbearable and unlivable for the refugees they deemed an eyesore outside their gates. Either they would give in and leave or they would eventually revolt. As they had nowhere else to go, naturally the refugees decided to fight back. Give them weapons to actually make themselves feel stronger and more capable of success? And the Monetarists had effectively put the fear of these desperate men and women into the hearts of those living within their city.

All without having to lift a single finger to do it.

“One question,” she tapped her finger against her cheek. “What is the connection to the Ivy? This all explains the Monetarists’ goals in petitioning to have the refugees relocated, but I don’t understand where this Garlean agent comes into play?”

“The Monetarists are notorious for hiring sellswords and mercenaries to carry out their dirty work, and I’m speaking from personal experience,” Ilberd ‘tsked, staring off into space and likely thinking of whatever job he had done in their name. “Anything that eliminates a connection. Given that we have been in pursuit of this Ivy person, ‘tis likely they sought them out and paid them a considerable sum to keep the trail from leading back to them.”

“And this just so happens to coincide with the Warrior of Light’s presence in Ul’dah,” Thancred thought aloud. “An excellent ploy to get those who look highly to you in favor now leary of putting too much faith in your ability to help.”

“Who did you piss off?” Ilberd wondered, throwing her a smirk that was meant in jest. His question, however, was intentional. 

She shrugged, “Great, so someone obviously wants me to crash and burn. Why? I have no bloody clue. The good news is that there is likely to be a trail. I can assume you will be handling this case moving forward?” 

Ilberd nodded, lips pressed in a firm line with determination. “I shall not rest until I find the bastard that made this mess. No one fucks with  _ my _ people or uses them as bait, not while I yet breathe.”

“Meanwhile, I think it best if you retire back in Revenant’s Toll,” Alphinaud suggested.

Thancred nodded his head in agreement. “We know that at least the Ivy is stationed here as they are more than familiar with the events of Ul’dah as everything so far has taken place near these walls. Minfilia should be arriving any day now.”

“And I demand that you get some rest,” Alphinaud knelt down beside her. “Pains me to say it knowing full well you could bash my head in if you so chose, but you look terrible, Carine.”

His light quip was enough to draw the slightest curl in her lips. She was tired. Bone weary, wet, and emotionally exhausted. He said a few spells over her, not bothering with the cuts, but doing enough to ease the throbbing still in her head before leaving with the others so she might change. 

As she slid into the crisp sheets of her bed after pulling off her sopping clothes and changing into a nightdress, she closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to consume her. 

But all she got was nightmares of lifeless eyes and mangled bodies piled high as an Ascian watched her from above them all and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was not at all how this was supposed to go. Chaos ensued and my imagination went wild.  
> Poor, poor Carine. When will you ever get a break my darling?


	19. Wearing Thin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She let out a heavy sigh, unable to disagree with him. “What is happening to me, Thancred?” she asked, shoulders falling as the last of her anger faded leaving her empty and hollow inside. The carefree, optimists she had always been was feeling more and more like a distant memory of a life she could scarcely remember. It was another time, a happier one, now darkened by death and crystals and Ascians. It warped her into something strange, someone unfamiliar._

Carine wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, leaving behind a long smear of dirt in its wake as she examined her handiwork. Her hands were cracked and bleeding, the skin blistered from the work that she had put them through to finish the last of the graves for those that had died by her hands. The sun beat upon her back, its rays burning her skin bright red. Sweat stung at the cuts and the sunburn, but she ignored it in favor of finishing her task before the sun set.

It was long, hard, tiring work, but there was no one better suited for the job than the Warrior of Light. Alphinaud and Thancred had tried to talk her out of it; told her there were others capable of seeing it done, but she wouldn’t hear it. These people had suffered and, likewise, so would she to see them put to proper rest.

Ilberd had joined her as he had considered these people his own thanks to their shared background. Carine was thankful for his help, and Wilred’s too, in making sure the graves were buried just outside the church in Eastern Thanalan. She was also grateful that Ilberd seemed to harbor no ill will towards her. It had been one of many concerns, considering he had been born and raised in Ala Mhigo and driven out much the same way as the men who died had, but as he had said the night before, she had done right by stopping the summoning before Rhalgr could fully form. It didn’t mean taking the life of the few was right, she knew that, but it had appeased her to know that she had stopped more terrible destruction. 

When the graves were finished, the three of them stood with the sisters and the priest to pray alongside them. Carine had spent the better part of the morning trying to learn their names to give them a proper burial, but in the wake of the night before, the refugees were hard pressed to speak to anyone, much less the Warrior of Light. They had looked upon her in fear and hesitation, no longer eager to approach her in need. It wasn’t just because she had killed the first man that dared spoke against her just days after the incident. Her power had finally been witnessed first hand by the common folk.

Anyone that could kill a half dozen armed men with a single shot was worthy of being feared.

She parted ways with the Braves and used the aetheryte crystal in Camp Drybone to transport her back to Ul’dah. There were a few more loose ends she needed to tie up, namely seeking out Brendt to give him more coin to hire an adventurer to hunt for the refugees in her stead and to let Thancred know she was heading back to Revenant’s Toll. Alphinaud had already traveled back, having got all the information he possibly could from the heretic, leaving her to make sure she checked in just in case someone thought she was off sneaking to consort with the Garleans.

The Elezen walked through the streets, ignoring the stares from the citizens or the way they would give her more space as she walked by. As disheartening as it was to know they all now feared her rather than praised her, Carine found relief in knowing she wouldn’t be crowded by requests from everyone that felt they had need of her. It was almost a breath of fresh air, a small break in the world of madness that had accumulated in her life in such a short time.

Mayhap she would have a chance to go and visit her mother with this newfound freedom.

As she made her way towards the Quicksand where Thancred was supposed to be waiting, dark robes fluttered down a back alley, barely catching her attention. For a moment she forgot to breathe, memories of Lahabrea’s garb flashing through her mind as she turned to follow. The feeling of dread grew with each step, worry clenching at her throat and a cold sweat beading at her brow despite the desert heat that threatened to suffocate her. There couldn’t be an Ascian here,and if there was, the Scions needed to know about it. 

_ Watch it be just some poor peddler trying to get home to his wife and children, _ she tried to reason with herself as she continued following him step by step into the bowels of the city.  _ He’s probably half scared out of his wits because I’m following him. _

But the cloaked figure never slowed and never once looked over their shoulder to see her tailing them. Unusual for a person to do unless they  _ knew _ and  _ wanted _ to be followed. Carine’s bow was back in her room, tucked safely out of sight, but she wasn’t entirely defenseless. As always, there were two hidden daggers on her at all times. Her fingers danced along their hilts, twitching with every turn before she finally lost her nerve and drew them from their sheaths. 

The figure disappeared into what looked like an abandoned building. Sunlight didn’t hit this side of the city this time of day, making the darkness within seem that much more dangerous. Fogged glass made up the curved windows, though a few had cracks that cobwebbed from impact points. Most likely the rambunctious youth liked to toss stones at the broken building as several of the window panes stood in ruin, their glass fractured into sharp edges.

It was just the sort of place an Ascian might decide to hide. 

Carine took a deep breath and searched for the Blessing within her. The magic welcomed her, growing accustomed to her seeking touch and gave in to be used. For a moment she recoiled at the realization of just how easy it was to bring it to the surface, the memory of lifeless eyes giving her just enough pause to think. But soon the gentle warmth licked her skin from her chest and down her arms, lighting the blades in her hands with glowing, white light. She closed her eyes, listening to the whispers in the darkness and tried to make out the words before they suddenly disappeared. Fearing that she would lose her quarry, Carine opened her eyes and rushed in, daggers at the ready only to find herself face to face with someone she had least expected.

“By the Fury!” Eline Roaille’s eyes were saucers in her head, mouth hanging open in surprise and fright though her instinct had been to draw her sword at her side. “My lady! What in Seven Hells are you doing on this side of the city?”

The Blessing retreated, leaving her daggers normal steel as the Warrior of Light pulled them back, confusion writ on her features. “Eline?”

“Is aught amiss?” the other woman asked, eyes nervously glancing around. 

“You didn’t see a cloaked figure go in there, did you?” Carine eyed the darkness of the abandoned building behind the Elezen in front of her. She was so sure it had been an Ascian. The robes were far too familiar to be anything else.

Eline followed her gaze, brows nearly touching with concern as she turned back to Carine. “A cloaked figure? No, my lady. This building has been abandoned for ages. I-” and she paused to turn and look back at it once more. “I was on patrol. Refugees and sellswords alike often use this place for illegal dealings. Already had a nasty turn with an illegal somnus ring in this very place once this year.”

Carine let out a heavy sigh and relaxed her shoulders, the muscle tension leaving her sore as she sheathed her weapons. “Apologies if I frightened you. Mind if we travel back to the Quicksand together?”

The other Elezen seemed relieved, not that she could blame her. Being at the other end of her blade wasn’t something anyone wanted, especially not after last night. Eline motioned for her to follow, leading the way through the maze of streets. Carine gave one last glance behind her, feeling as though someone were watching, but there was nothing but broken glass in an empty building at her back. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Monteil,” Eline began. “Were you looking for someone?”

“I-” she hesitated, worried that telling the Immortal Flame an Ascian may have been lurking in her streets might be too much for her to handle. Already she had nearly come face to face with a Primal and had witnessed Carine’s power first hand. Finding out that such a dangerous enemy might be on the loose wasn’t likely to earn her any rest, especially if the Warrior of Light was to be leaving in half a bell. “I thought I saw someone I knew…”

Eline was silent, eerily silent. “Did you see who they were? Or who you thought they were?”

“No. I think...I think I may still have some trauma from where I hit my head before,” Carine admitted. Though it was meant to be a joke just to ease the tension that had suddenly been growing around them, the other Elezen seemed content to believe that was the truth. 

“You did hit your head rather hard, my lady.”

When the main street had come into sight, Carine caught the glance of Ilberd. His pale eyes scanned the streets, looking for someone rather intently from what she could tell. When he turned his gaze on her, she found herself staring into cruel, hardened eyes. Her heart fluttered frightfully in her chest. Ilberd was a friend, a bloody good one. There was no need to fear him, but the look of anger that had met her was almost palpable from this distance before soon softening into a generous smile. 

“Carine! I was hoping to see you before you left for the evening,” he said, waving her to join him. She turned back to Eline and bid her farewell, thanking her for all her hard work before making her way to the Highlander. 

“Have I done something to displease you?” she twisted her fingers, not meeting his eyes. 

He looked genuinely confused for a moment, platinum blond brows knitting together until realization dawned on him and he shook his head. “Not you, lass.”

She frowned and followed his gaze towards the Elezen now heading towards the Immortal Flames barracks. “Has she?”

“What were the two of you off doing?” he asked without looking at her until Eline had disappeared from view.

She found his behavior rather odd. He was on edge, angry even. Every fiber in his thick muscles seemed to be just one move away from leaping into action and taking the unassuming Elezen down as she walked with purpose to her destination. “I thought I saw an...um,” she leaned in a whispered, “Ascian.”

He jerked his head to her, the slightest traces of fear flashing in his eyes before they snapped back to where Eline had disappeared. “In Ul’dah? Where?”

Carine shook her head, “I was heading towards the Quicksand when I saw the robes. I followed him all the way to an abandoned building on the outskirts. Eline was on patrol there, but she didn’t see anything.”

He hummed in displeasure and scratched at his chin. “Is that so?” He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her at this point, until he turned to finally face her fully. “I’d be cautious if I were you. After last night, you shouldn’t be traveling alone in these streets.”

The smile he graced her with didn’t chase away the troubling thoughts now building within her mind. There was something he wasn’t telling her, or perhaps it was something he couldn’t. Either way, there was no doubt that it had to do with Eline Roaille. What she could have done, or could be doing, she didn’t know, but something about the way Ilberd had said the words was enough to make her heed his caution. 

Ever the gentleman that he was, Ilberd escorted her to the Quicksand where Thancred was already hard at work charming the ladies at one of the round tables in the center of the establishment. His hazel eyes were alight with joy as he retold his many tales, embellishing them with more horror and suspense than he had any right to. 

She couldn’t help but lean back against the wall and smile at the sight. It was good to see the man in his element, surrounded by beautiful women and telling tall tales that no one with any sense would believe. How long had it been since he hadn’t had to worry about what others thought of him or whether they blamed him for the Scion’s untimely demise? Carine didn’t know, but was glad to see those troubles were no longer affecting him. At least for this moment. 

As he reached the climax of his tale, his drink raised in the air, their eyes met. A playful smirk curled his lip while the women jumped and squealed in delight. A few leaned in, their hands daring to touch his shoulders or his chest while another one of them looked behind her to see Carine standing there with a smirk all her own. 

How quickly her face fell and cat-like ears flattened against her head. Even her blonde tail couldn’t help but fluff in agitation as she backed away and made for the other side of the bar. The other girls weren’t far behind, all standing and moving away from Thancred as she made her way towards him. 

They bloody acted as though she would attack them for no reason other than she could. 

They looked at her as though she were a monster.

“Apologies for chasing away your entertainment,” she said, taking the seat in front of him and resting her boots on the empty chair to his side. “They all looked so-”

“Oh save it. I hear these lectures enough when Minfilia is around,” he chuckled. “I take it you’re going back to Revenant’s Toll now? Took you long enough to get here.”

Thanks to her entrance, several of the patrons already drinking within the tavern had moved to give her space. Their conversations had thus returned to a normal level, which left her with plenty of room to tell him what she had witnessed. 

“I think there’s an Ascian in Ul’dah,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. “I could have sworn that I saw their robes on my way over.”

The laughter in his eyes died away immediately. If anyone took Ascians seriously, Thancred was the man. “Are you sure?”

“I would stake my powers on it,” she confirmed. “But I never got a good look. I ended up running into Eline on patrol. What use that was as she hadn’t seen a thing.”

“Well, they  _ do _ have a nasty habit of being able to disappear into thin air,” he replied.

Carine nodded, remembering their dark magic and strange ability to teleport to...wherever they teleported to. “I figured since I am leaving, you would wish to know.”

“I-thank you,” he replied, worry in his voice. “You should make sure to report to Minfilia the moment you arrive. I believe she may wish to know as well.”

The Elezen wanted to comfort him, to remind him that what had happened with Lahabrea hadn’t been his fault, but it would do little good if he didn’t believe her. He had plenty of time off work to rest and regain control over himself for the past several moons, but she had the feeling that no amount of time that passed would rid him of the guilt he felt deep down for the loss of the Scions thanks to his memories. 

She was just about to try her hand at weaving words of comfort for him when she noticed Teledji Adeledji walking in to the Quicksand. Anger flashed in her eyes, and before Thancred could stop her, Carine was already strolling across the room towards the unsuspecting Lalafell. He turned, just as she approached and smiled widely, “Ah, good to see you War-!”

His words were cut off as Carine reached down and picked him up off the floor by his collar. His chubby hands smacked harmlessly against her arms, his child-like legs kicking frantically as she brought him face to face with her. 

“What the  _ fuck _ happened to your bill?” she spat, temper far out of her control now. She was dimly aware of Thancred at her back, or the way the entire bar had gone silent. “Answer me!”

Teledji kicked and squirmed, his tanned face growing red with frustration. “You will unhand me at once!” he demanded.

“Not until you tell me why you failed in our bargain, little shit of a Lalafell,” she replied, giving him a harsh jerk for good measure. 

“Carine, perhaps you should put him down,” Thancred cautioned behind her, putting a hand on her arm. “You can’t talk like civilized people if you aren’t being civil.”

Blood boiled in her veins, making her ears ring and eyes see red, but he was right. As gently as she could manage in her state, she put the Lalafell on the ground, but did not release him. “You will tell me why the refugees resorted to summoning Rhalgr, and you will tell me now or so help me…”

“Why I have never!” he glared at her with his oblong eyes. “I could have you arrested for assault, you know!’

Carine rolled her eyes and finally let go of the collar of his expensive silk shirt, another thing that made her irate. “As if anyone could arrest me,” she challenged him. 

He huffed and puffed, but ultimately resorted to straightening out his clothes. They both knew she was right. Thancred knew she was right. Maybe that gave her too much power to have her way in moments like these, but she didn’t care. 

“Though I don’t agree with her methods, I must echo the same question,” Thancred stepped in, kneeling down to better face the Lalafell. “While i was not present during the negotiations, it was to my understanding you were making a bill to pass to put the refugees to work.”

“And so I have,” Teledji snapped, jabbing a finger at the both of them. “‘Tis no fault of mine the Syndicate continues to veto it.”

“But why?” Carine asked, her rage quietening for the moment. “If it would get the refugees out of their hair…”

The Lalafell shook his head. “I have proposed several bills. The first was to require the Monetarists hire refugees into their own businesses, much like I have done with the Mirage. They believe it to be a poor business choice considering how it has lost favor with the locals, but make it an even market and there won’t be a need for favorites.

“The second was to open the east trading route that passes near Little Ala Mhigo. That settlement would be thriving by now if they would just open the bloody route, but they claim ‘tis still too dangerous as we do not yet know when the Garleans will come again.

“And lastly, I proposed a bill to move them to the Carteneau Flats to work and help scavenge the land for anything we might could use against the Garleans, given that they have never returned for their weapons and airships,” he concluded. “So, Warrior, as you can see, I have tried my bloody hardest to meet my end of our bargain, but I cannot override the Syndicate’s decision.”

Carine groaned in frustration as she stood to her full height and paced. “So what? They don’t want the refugees here because they are an eyesore, but are willing to make them dangerous by starving them to desperation and then arming them with crude weapons? What fucking logic!”

“Now now, we don’t know for sure that is what happened,” Thancred pointed out, nervously tapping his fingers together. 

“Be that as it may, there is still naught I can do to assist you,” Teledji huffed, still angry by her treatment of him. “And you best remember who your allies are, Warrior. Ul’dah is not likely to forget what happened last night.”

Carine winced, the jagged wounds ripped open anew at his words. She was letting the stress of being the Warrior of Light get to her, wear her down, and grate her nerves. “I apologize for my behavior. You did not deserve the treatment I gave you, nor do I expect your forgiveness,” she bowed. “Whatever I can do to make it up to you, you have but to ask.”

He grinned and nodded, pleased with her display of submission. “Just find the Ivy and put them out of commission. Ul’dah can ill afford to be more divided than she is already.”

The Lalafell bid them farewell, leaving the Elezen and the Hyur alone with cautious eyes still following their every move.

“That could have gone better,” Thancred mumbed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You really ought to learn some anger management, Carine. The Scions can’t afford you having a short fuse with everyone you meet.”

She let out a heavy sigh, unable to disagree with him. “What is happening to me, Thancred?” she asked, shoulders falling as the last of her anger faded leaving her empty and hollow inside.  The carefree, optimists she had always been was feeling more and more like a distant memory of a life she could scarcely remember. It was another time, a happier one, now darkened by death and crystals and Ascians. It warped her into something strange, someone unfamiliar. 

Carine felt as though she were on the brink of losing herself.

He patted her back in reassurance, but she could tell that he didn’t know the answer to her question. “Inform Minfilia that you are in need of a break. Take it from me, don’t wait until it’s too late.”

_ Mayhap he’s right, _ she thought to herself as she followed him out of the Quicksand and towards the Aetheryte Plaza.  _ But the question is, what would happen if I took a vacation? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still gradually working on this story, don't you worry! Only taking small bursts to keep dishing out chapters through the month of NaNo!


	20. An Uninvited Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She had never been the one to turn to alcohol when stress became too much to bear, but she didn’t have her sister to drag her to some tavern for loud singing and dancing, which only added to her turmoil._

Night had fallen by the time Carine made it to Revenant’s Toll. Countless stars glittered in the clear, midnight blue sky as she strolled down the grey cobbled paths that lead away from the bustling settlement. She needed to be alone for a while, to seek some peace and comfort and reassurance from herself that she wasn’t letting this power get the best of her. 

All she wanted was for people not to suffer. She didn’t want there to be anymore Marni’s in this world, insignificant cast outs because life threw them something unfair. Would that she had been born to help Ala Mhigo before its fall, but alas, she had been but a child. She knew it was wishful thinking, there would always be turmoil in this world, but would that the people could see that they all faced a common foe.

It was all so plain in her eyes. Help your own to rise against that which wishes to take from you, yet the Monetarists or the Syndicate in general would rather protect their material wealth than unite with those that have more to fight for than even she. They had but to look at Revenant’s Toll to see the progress that could be made if they but shared only a fraction of their wealth. 

A shame they were too fucking greedy.

The cool night air brushed against her cheeks and she stopped to look up at the vast, neverending sky.  _ You chose me to protect everyone, but how when I am but one person? _ She asked, looking towards the heavens. If Hydaelyn heard her, there was no answer. Nothing but another gentle breeze blowing from the wreckage of the  _ Agrius. _ Carine looked to the lake, barely making out the great wyrm carcass twisted and curled around the Garlean airship.

There was a familiarity in the sight, almost as if it were a beacon guiding her toward it. She felt an intense wave of desire pulse through her being, a need to seek the answer to a question she hadn’t yet asked. It called to her, summoning her forth with urgency, and step by step, her feet guided her off the beaten path. 

Nothing else existed in her mind except the crumbling wreckage standing out in the middle of Silvertear Lake. Even the cobras that frequented the crystal shores seemed to have sought out their burrows rather than face her. Carine barely noticed the ice water soaking through her boots as she waded into the shallows, lilac eyes focused straight ahead. 

“Hey Miss? What are you doing out here this time of night?” a large Roegadyn fellow shouted. He was close, Carine could feel him nearby, but his voice sounded far away and less important than whatever entity was reaching out to her now. “Carine?”

His hand reached out to her, the contact breaking whatever spell she had been put under and snapping her back into reality hard enough to make her head hurt. Her hands flew to her temples as a headache not unlike the ones she experienced after the Echo had a hold of her, raked through her brain.

“Are you well?” the Roegadyn asked, his large eyes wide with worry. 

“I-I’m unsure,” she replied honestly, leaning against his large frame that he offered as support. “I must needs rest apparently.”

He allowed her to rest against him, guiding her out of the freezing waters and towards the shore where his little camp was set up. In the light of his fire, she recognized him as one of the adventurers that had joined up with the Scions not long after their arrival. Hoary Boulder, she believed. 

He set her down gently on a padded rock and went about kindling the fire to keep it up while humming gently to himself without asking too many questions. If it had been anyone else that found the Warrior of Light wandering mindlessly in the wilderness of Mor Dhona, she likely would have been brought to Minfilia immediately. 

“Thank you. Apologies if I gave you any worry,” she said as he handed her a cup of clean water. It was cool and refreshing, just what she needed to chase away the fogginess that had crept into her mind. The longing to go to the wreckage was still there, but rather than a force that controlled her, it pulsed weakly in her chest almost as if it were biding its time.

He looked towards the  _ Agrius, _ “Minfilia has Coultenet and I watching this heap for any signs of it coming to life.”

“And have you found anything?” 

Hoary shook his head. “Afraid not. There hasn’t even been a twitch from its tail. No one even goes near it much, except for you.”

He sounded as troubled as she felt, though she was glad he didn’t voice it. Carine had more than enough to deal with on her plate as it was without adding weird tendencies to be drawn to the crash site. “I think I’m just tired. A lot happened in Ul’dah,” she told him, bringing her attention back to the fire. 

“Ah yes, word has it they attempted to summon Rhalgr,” he nodded. “A good thing you just happened to be in the city.”

_ Almost too convenient if you ask me, _ she thought to herself. The fewer people that knew about the conspiracy to taint her good name, the better though she felt safe enough with the Roegadyn by her side. “Where is Coultenet anyway?”

“Oh, you know him. Just making charts and calculating aether as best I can tell,” Hoary replied with a gentle smile. “He should be getting back soon, might even have found something worth eating, if you’ve a mind to stick around?”

As much as she appreciated the offer, she had to decline. It was late enough and Minfilia was expecting her. She could at least thank the Twelve for Hoary finding her out here, or there would at least be an hour or so she couldn’t be accounted for. Carine imagined that wouldn’t do for the Scion’s growing problems that revolved around her. 

She bid the Roe farewell, promising to have someone send him something decent to eat as she set off back to Revenant’s Toll. Just as he faded from sight, the intense desire to go back to the wreckage returned, this time making her ill as she walked in the opposite direction. When she turned back, she could have sworn that the carcass of the great wyrm so that one eye watched her retreat to the safety of Revenant’s Toll.

 

“I need a vacation,” Carine announced without hesitation upon entering the solar. She paid no mind to the other Scions that had gathered, or that there was someone there she had not yet met before as she strolled across the room and leaned upon the desk. “If this is a bad time, I’m sorry, but I need time away from this.”

Minfilia clutched her hands to her chest, eyes widened in surprise at her request. “Is all well, Carine?”

She took a deep breath, centering herself as best she could so as not to unleash her stress upon the woman she considered a close ally. “No,” she replied honestly. Thancred had been right, waiting until it was too late wasn’t an option considering the destruction he alone caused. “The trip to Ul’dah was...more than I bargained for. I have already lost my temper on one undeserving person this day.”

The Hyur stepped back, worriedly looking from Carine to Y’shtola and Urianger that were also present. “I fear to ask whom you might’ve unleashed your anger upon, but it might be best I do not know,” she stated, shaking her blonde head. “If you truly need a rest, please do so. You have done more than enough for us already.”

Carine let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Thank you, but are you sure? Thancred and Alphinaud had said something about you bringing a friend back from wherever it is you have been.”

“I did. Carine, I would like for you to meet Moenbryda,” Minfilia smiled and motioned to the other figure in the room Carine hadn’t paid attention to initially. 

The Warrior of Light was pleasantly surprised to see a Roegadyn in their midst, a woman at that. Pale skin matched with paler eyes met hers cheerfully as she stepped forth, eagerly grabbing Carine’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “A pleasure at last to meet you! Minfilia has told me  _ everything.” _

Carine arched a silver brow at the Hyur wondering if she had truly informed this woman of  _ everything _ that she had done, including Nero. “Is that so? Good things, I hope.”

“Moenbryda is a trusted friend and an asset to our cause,” Minfilia explained. So she did know everything after all. Well, at least she still seemed more than eager to meet her. 

The Roe smiled widely, light steel grey hair bouncing over her shoulder. “Not to worry, your Garlean problem is safe with me. Though what you ever saw in one-”

“Ahem,” Minfilia cleared her throat, saving Carine from what was most likely an unintentional insult. “As I was saying, I brought her back with me to assist in our Ascian problem. She’s an expert, one of the best Sharlayan has to offer. If anyone can help us learn how to defeat them, it would be her.”

Moenbryda nodded, lightly punching one fist into the palm of her hand. “And I’m not just here to assist in the scholarly things either. I’ve a mind to let my steel taste blood if it comes to blows.”

“Pray that it does not come to that,” Y’shtola interjected. “I’ve seen a fair share of the stuff and ‘tis not worth it. Besides, your aethyric research is too important to be tossed aside for the whim of battle.”

Moenbryda was unphased by their words as she motioned to the great battleaxe that was leaning against the wall. “One can never be  _ too _ careful, especially when dealing with Ascians.”

Carine liked her immediately, finding a commonality in the Roe that she hadn’t found with any of the other Scions except maybe Thancred and Yda. Her outlook on such matters were frightfully similar, and it seemed that the others weren’t clueless on that fact either. 

“Wait, Y’shtola said that you work in aetherical research?” she asked. “What does that have to do with Ascians?”

“Well, you see…” Moenbryda began, tapping her fingers together as she considered what she was about to say. “At the moment, it’s really all just  _ theory. _ I still have to run some tests, but I have a very good feeling about it all.”

“Moenbryda will be working to see if her theory proves true. It seems unlikely we will have need of you for at least a few days, if you truly wish to take a break,” Minfilia stated. “I forget that sometimes you bear the biggest burden of us all.”

_ Only sometimes? Pray, ‘tis not always? _ Carine nearly snapped aloud, catching herself just before she did.  _ I really do need a fucking vacation. _

“Yes, I think a few days with my mother will help calm my mind and prepare me for what may lie ahead. I fear this summoning of Rhalgr won’t be the last, though I have my doubts the refugees will try again soon.”

Moenbryda grinned widely, excitement in her eyes as she looked down at Carine. “What I wouldn’t give to battle at your side against an eikon! Mayhap it can be arranged that I at least witness it and attempt to gather some calculations in how her aether reacts with the crystals…” she prattled on, her mind immediately thinking up endless possibilities and tests that the Warrior of Light couldn’t hope to imagine. 

“Then I grant you full permission for leave. Will you be traveling tonight?” the antecedent asked. 

The Elezen shook her head and yawned. “I think I may stay for the evening and head out in the morning. Besides, there are other matters in which I must discuss.” 

“Such as?”

Carine went at length to describe the events as she had witnessed them in Ul’dah. Everything from the sorry state of affairs there to the attempted summoning of a primal, to how she stopped it just in time. She assured Minfilia that she had taken it upon herself to see that those men and women were given proper burials by her own hands, which seemed to give her some relief.

When she brought up the Ascian, the room went silent. Everyone’s ears were trained on her voice as she described what she had seen, even if it had lead to a dead end. She even brought up her conversation with Teledji Adeledji for not yet having a bill that has passed, but she glossed over the finer details of just how she had handled the Lalafell. 

“If the Ascians have returned so soon, there will be more primal summonings,” Minfilia thought aloud. “You are sure it was one of them?”

“Absolutely. They disappeared into a building and Eline hadn’t noticed anything suspicious when she left,” Carine replied. “I suppose she could have been possessed, but I felt no sinister presence when I had the Blessing called to me.”

“A conundrum to say the least. I shall send a few more people to assist Thancred just to be safe.”

“And the refugees?”

Minfilia looked at her sadly, shaking her head. “Carine, I know their plight affects you deeply, and I would never wish to change your heart on the manner, but we have precious little influence when it comes to Ul’dah’s affairs. Thancred is there to lend and ear and offer advice from our perspective, but we have no power to change their laws or sway the Syndicate’s decision after it has been made.”

_ Yet they have no issue trying to dictate how the Scions of the Seventh Dawn should be run, _ Carine thought. She knew the answer before she had asked, so there was nothing her words did but add another hardened layer to her heart. “As long as you haven’t forgotten them, that is all I ask,” she said with a bow and then turned to leave. 

Carine left the solar and headed towards the main room of the Rising Stones. There were a few tables spread out for the Scions to sit and mingle and exchange information as they learned it. She walked up to the counter of the bar against one wall and ordered a couple different shots of alcohol to help numb her mind. As far as she was concerned, her vacation started now. 

She had never been the one to turn to alcohol when stress became too much to bear, but she didn’t have her sister to drag her to some tavern for loud singing and dancing, which only added to her turmoil. She missed Violaine terribly, more than she would ever admit to any of the Scions, but being the Warrior of Light had taken her from pursuing the one path she wished more than anything to follow. Nero’s words had satisfied her, but only for a time for now Carine realized that she was far too busy to focus on finding and saving her sister. 

A wooden chair scraped against the cobbled floor across from her, jerking her from her inner thoughts to see Moenbryda casually resting her long, muscular legs on one of the other tables in a decidedly unladylike fashion. In her hand was one oversized stein brimming with froth from her beer that left a thick moustache upon her upper lip when she took a drink. 

“You looked lonely, figured you could use some company,” the Roe said. “A gil for your thoughts?”

“Not sure you would really want to know them. I have a reputation to uphold,” Carine replied with a sly smile. 

Moenbryda gazed upon her, the cleverness of her eyes softening into a look of pity as she shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. Everyday working from dawn till dusk, if you even get the chance to rest with the sun. How long since your last break?”

The way she said it, the softness of her voice, spoke of a place of understanding. She wasn’t trying to intrude. If anything, the Roegadyn was prompting her to the realization that it had been too long since she last did nothing unless it was for herself. She hadn’t even seen her mother since she had arrived back from Coerthas, nor had the time to write her and inform her of what had transpired.

“Too bloody long,” she replied, raising her glass. “Which is why it starts tonight!”

Moenbryda grinned in agreement, meeting Carine’s glass with her stein before they both brought their drinks to their lips. 

“I know the two of you aren’t drinking without us,” Thancred shook his head upon his approach to the table. Yda was at his side, her hands firm on her hips as if just as upset. Moenbryda moved her long legs, giving up a seat for one of them while Yda took her place next to the empty chair by Carine. 

“I thought you would be staying in Ul’dah. What happened?” Carine asked.

The Midlander held up his hand to calm her racing thoughts. “Nothing to worry over, I assure you. Minfilia worried about your report of the Ascian and I was more than willing to step outside the city for a few days with all that is going on.”

“I’ll not complain. It’s good to see you again, Thancred,” Moenbryda beamed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and pulling him close. 

“Ah, yes, I do remember why I missed you as well. Your radiance shines bright as always,” Thancred hummed, allowing her to squish him to her body. The familiarity between the two was a surprise to the Elezen as she looked between them trying to puzzle out exactly their sort of relationship. 

Yda, on the other hand, had no trouble spelling it out. “He means to say your bosom is as large and enticing as always.”

He blushed, but made no move to pull away from the Roegadyn as he winked at them across the table, making Carine and Yda giggle. 

“‘Tis plain to see the passage of the years hath done little to dampen thy youthful spirits and nothing at all to reform thy youthful manner.”

The giggling promptly stopped the moment Urianger approached the table. Thancred quickly removed his head from near Moenbryda’s breasts and quietly stole her stein to take one long draught. Moenbryda smirked, eyes slowly gazing up the Elezen’s body in what appeared to be apt appreciation. She stood to her towering height and approached the man, circling him as a predator might circle their prey before pulling him in for the biggest hug Carine had ever witnessed. 

Such a sight wouldn’t have surprised her had it been the Roegadyn hugging Thancred, or Yda, or Y’shtola. Hells, she could even see the woman pulling Minfilia in for a full bodied embrace that dripped with a deep familiarity. But not the seclusive Elezen scholar that would rather spend his days reading his books than to spare a few words with the Warrior of Light. 

“Wh-unhand me!” he exclaimed, body going stiff against her. He was delightfully uncomfortable, his mouth open in surprise at the gesture. It widened as she lifted him off the ground, squeezing him closer before finally placing him back on his own two feet. 

“I have traveled all this way and  _ that _ is what you wish to say to me? What happened to your desperate pleas that I drop everything and hurry to your side? I think it went like ‘None save thee can satisfy this need-’”

Everyone’s jaw at the table dropped at those words. They could hardly believe their ears as they looked to the scarlet Elezen trying to hide under the hood of his robes and then to the Roegadyn winking at them with a devious smirk. 

“Oh do go on,” Thancred crossed his arms over his chest. “I am always in the mood for a bawdy tale or two, especially if they feature our most  _ secretive _ Scion.”

“Mine  _ intent, _ as well thou knowest, was but to impress to you the gravity of the circumstance. None save thee has the knowledge of aetherytes and the effect of white auracite,” Urianger grumbled, looking away from the others. His cheeks were still a miraculous form of red, and though his discomfort shouldn’t have entertained them, it absolutely did.

“And he means to say he likes your bosom as well,” Yda piped up, earning a hearty laugh from everyone at the table at the expense of their comrade. 

Carine wiped away the tears in her eyes, draining the last of her drink when she saw a white cloaked figure walking through the main hall towards the solar. A twinge of dread weighed heavily in her stomach, the familiar weight of despair hanging over her shoulders that she had come to associate with being near an Ascian as she gazed upon the figure’s back. It was impossible that an Ascian would step foot within the Rising Stones. Y’shtola and Papalymo had taken great care in warding their new sanctum from the otherworldly visitors. 

_ Mental note that alcohol, sleep deprivation, and paranoia do not mix well, _ she told herself, focusing instead on listening to the merriment of her surrounding friends. She had forgotten how good it was to laugh and cut up and just not care for a time.

“Carine, you’re a lovely woman. Surely you have some bawdy tales for us as well?” Moenbryda waggled her brows at her from across the table. 

“I’m afraid there is not much to tell, sadly. No one wants a Garlean’s seconds,” she replied in a quick snap. Immediately she blushed and apologized at the venom of her answer. “‘Tis a bit of a sore subject.”

“Hm, is that so?” Moenbryda drummed her fingers against the oak table as she stared at Carine with great consideration. “I hear you have been receiving plenty of letters from a lord in Coerthas. Are you  _ sure _ there is nothing to tell?”

Yda was practically bouncing in her seat, clapping her hands together and squealing like a young school girl that had just gotten her hands on the latest juicy gossip. Thancred even arched his brow, surprise and interest in what she had to say for herself while Urianger simply shook his head. “‘Tis not our business to intrude upon her personal intimacies.”

Carine blushed, silently thanking the other Elezen for standing up for her when just moments before she was grinning from ear to ear as Moenbryda cooed over him and danced her fingers along his slender shoulders. “Haurchefant is a dear friend, but nothing more. I’m afraid whatever fantasies tainted your minds upon seeing those letters are for naught.”

Moenbryda tossed her hands in the air and ‘tsked as though she didn’t believe a word of it despite having not known the Warrior of Light for hardly a bell. “We shall see. Your business with Ishgard is hardly through from what Minfilia says. A shame they won’t see reason and just join wi-”

A scream sounded from the solar, interrupting the Roe’s train of thought as the Scions quickly stood to their feet. Carine staggered for a moment, having drank more than she had intended. It took all of her concentration to focus on a spell to clear her mind and judgement before she could follow the others, but what she found would have sobered her instantly. 

Minfilia lay unconscious on the ground just on the other side of the door. Thancred had to push as gently as he could to keep from hurting her as they sought for whoever or whatever had caused the antecedent to scream. While Thancred tended to her, cradling her head in his lap, Yda and Moenbryda scoured every inch of the room. 

Only to find nothing. 

“Twelve help us! What happened?” Thancred asked, smoothing the blonde hair from her head. She was still gone, whatever spell that had struck her leaving her incapable of returning for the moment. Try as the Scions might to understand the strange phenomenon, they were at a loss as their leader lay helpless on the floor. 

Carine, on the other hand, felt the tell-tale tendrils of the weighted dread from earlier, the traces of the Ascian that had done this, where they could not. “Stay here, guard her. Be on the lookout for a robed man in white,” she instructed them as she made her way to the weapons room where she stored her bow and daggers. She could feel Moenbryda following close behind, though she blocked her from getting her battleaxe.

“You know who did this. I would come with you and see to it they pay,” the Roegadyn growled. Fury blazed in her eyes, clouding her judgement. Carine couldn’t blame her. In fact, the guilt of knowing that she had sensed the Ascian in there presence twisted in her gut this very moment.

“I need someone to stay here and help guard Minfilia in case the person who did this comes back for more. I have no doubts in my ability, but I want as many Scions here just in case, understood?” she explained as best she could, hoping that Moenbryda would understand. 

She wasn’t convinced, but she yielded, letting the Warrior of Light pass. “If you find them, make sure there’s nothing left of them to come back,” she said as Carine touched the door. The Elezen nodded, stringing her bow to her back and making sure to grab the quiver full of the special arrows of Cid’s design. 

Any little bit helped. 

 

The Warrior of Light found her quarry easily, for the white robed Ascian stood at the gate almost as if he were waiting for her. Every nerve ending screamed to draw her bow and end him there, but there were too many people walking in the plaza, too many witnesses and potential victims. She wasn’t about to risk their lives in the heat of the moment again, not when the graves of those she had recently killed were still fresh.

Like Lahabrea, this man’s face was shrouded with his hood, hiding his identity from her view. It wouldn’t have done much good as she likely wouldn’t recognize whatever face he stole from some poor soul that was weak enough for him to possess. It also kept her from having to add another face to the nightmares she experienced because of the chaos and destruction caused by the Ascians and their dark agenda. His robes, on the other hand, were not the black robes she had seen Lahabrea or the other Ascian wear, but a bright, spotless white. 

“Ah, the Warrior of Light,” he said with a smile at her approach. 

“Who are you and what did you do to the antecedent?” She had no desire for talking in circles, only to get to the bottom of this matter. 

“So quick to judge when I have done nothing but act in self defense,” he ‘tsked. “Come, let us away from this place so that we may speak more freely.” 

Carine shook her head, fingers dancing on the hilts of her daggers. Following him away from the safety of Revenant’s Toll felt like a terribly bad idea, one that could potentially end in more disaster than she could hope to bunder her way through if she continued on her current path. He shrugged and turned his back to her, not a hint of fear that she might attack him now that he was exposed and just in range. “Suit yourself. I shall wait for half a bell, but no more. I only wished to speak peacefully with you.”

She watched him leave soundlessly through the gate and towards the Fogfens. She hesitated, not sure what to make of this Ascian dressed in white. He was polite, calm, serene even as he addressed her. A complete opposite to Lahabrea, if she were to continue making comparisons. And though her mind screamed that she should turn back and get Moenbryda to send him back from whence he came, her instinct told her to follow. 

And so she did. 

_ Yep, this is it. I am going absolutely insane. First I try to go swimming in a cold ass lake, then I see an Ascian dressed in white and think it smart to follow him where I have no backup and his friends can just pop out of thin air. Ah, Carine, ‘tis a wonder you have made it this far, _ she mused, trying her best to talk herself into turning around and seeking aid. She knew the other Scions would come without hesitation, but that could potentially leave Minfilia wide open to be hurt or worse by whatever other Ascians were nearby. As much as she hated it, this was the best option she had. 

He was standing next to one of the tall crystal spires that twisted out of the ground. The orange tips reached for the blackened sky like flames, the glow lighting her path and making it easier to spot him. Her boots crunched against the dry foliage and loose rocks, but he made no move to turn around and greet her. 

“I knew you would come.”

“Yeah, well, you hurt my friend. I figure there’s bound to be some long winded explanation as to why. Your type seems prone to them,” Carine pulled her bow from her back as she faced him. Its weight reassured her, even if it couldn’t guarantee her safety. 

He sighed, almost in exasperation as he turned to her. “I told you I come in peace, yet you would arm yourself against me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you...no wait...that’s right, I  _ don’t,” _ she replied. “Otherwise Minfilia wouldn’t be lying unconscious right now in the solar.”

“And I told you I acted in self-defense, did I not? I could show you.” Before she could stop him, the Ascian raised his hand, forcing her Echo to take her back to the recent past and into the solar. Just as he had said, she watched as he had turned to leave only for Minfilia to stupidly reach for him, shouting that he wait. 

Carine fell to her knees, the unexpected vision making her head throb and body shake in a way it usually didn’t. “Wh-how did you?” she groaned, rubbing her temples and willing the contents of her stomach to stay put. 

“Talented though you may be, you are yet ignorant. As is the one you blindly follow,” he said, extending his hand to help her to her feet. She glared, choosing instead to rise on her own than to accept any help from him. “‘Tis to be expected, Warrior of Light, and I shall not judge you too harshly. The fault lies with your forebears, and theirs, and the ones before them.”

“That doesn’t answer the question of who you are or why you are here.”

“My robes are that of an emissary and unlike he who came before, I have no quarrel with you. As for my name, you may call me Elidibus,” he replied casually as if they were well on their way to becoming friends rather than two people standing on opposing sides. 

“Interesting that the bringer of chaos would have a dignitary of peace,” Carine mused. “And I suppose you speak of Lahabrea as well? I trust you know him?”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Elidibus granted her a smile. “Like you, Lahabrea is a warrior who is quick with his actions and slow to think. As such, he fought you prematurely and lost. He may yet learn from his mistakes, though I find that unlikely.”

“So our theories are true. Lahabrea did not perish that night.” There had been no certain way for them to have known, but from what she had learned this evening, that was exactly why Moenbryda had been called to come and assist their cause. 

Elidibus shook his head, “You are learning, but still have a long way to go. Your gift grants you clarity, but you and the antecedent both underestimate its true power.”

Carine had no interest in knowing the true power of the Echo, or the Blessing for that matter. The Scions had their theories after witnessing what the Sahagains had learned from the Ascians to summon Leviathan, but none of them were willing to test those theories out. Something about potentially having everlasting life didn’t seem like anything anyone should have any knowledge of, even the Scions. That didn’t keep Minfilia from having Urianger study it on his own in case it lead to clues to their demise. 

She wasn’t going to tell him that though.

“I fail to see what it is you wished to accomplish by coming here,” she pointed out. 

“I merely wished to see the person so loved by the Mother that she was granted both the Echo and her Blessing. One strong enough to cast us from this plane with a mere arrow,” he replied. 

Carine grinned and lifted her bow, “I could show you how I did it, if you wish to experience it first hand.”

“Have the laws of this land grown so twisted in my absence that it has become permitted to lay hands upon an emissary?” There was an edge to his voice, jagged like a serrated blade. She could almost feel his anger at her simple jest, and thus lowered her weapon. 

“Oh lighten up, or does Zodiark forbid humor in his reign of chaos and disorder?”

The Ascian was not amused as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jest if you will, Warrior, but know this. Your Mother’s strength wanes, surely you must feel it. When was the last time you heard her call upon you?” The smirk on her lips died at his words, a telling answer as anything she could have voiced. “Ah, so you  _ are _ aware, even if you did not yet realize. And once her strength is finally spent and her influence has waned, the world as you know it shall change. All will be as it was, as it should have always been.”

Though fear that the weight of his words rang true, Carine stood defiantly against him. “Her strength has not yet waned and so long as I still stand, you won’t win.”

She watched a slow smile spread, the only thing of his face she could see beneath the hood of his robe at her response. “Doubt my claims if you will, but time will ultimately tell, Warrior of Light,” he replied. “I shall leave now as I came; in peace. We will meet again, that I can promise you. Whether we are friends or foes remains to be seen.”

Without waiting for a response, the Ascian waved and disappeared in a black fog of smoke, leaving the Warrior of Light  with the unfortunate realization that her much needed vacation was going to have to wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this was the last chapter of super filler and foreshadowing I think I have for a long time (thank GOD!) Also had to bring Moenbryda in early because honestly? Carine needs a girlfriend to help keep her head on straight right now. If anyone is going to make her take this damn vacation, it's going to be good ole Moen!


	21. Chasing the Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But it was anger that won out in the end. Pure, white hot anger that seared through her bones and boiled the blood coursing through her veins. It wasn’t a question of why she did this, but how could she?_

“So the rumors are true then? Emperor Solus is dead?” Merlwyb’s voice pierced the stunned silence that had followed Alphinaud’s revelation.

One wouldn’t have known that the young Elezen had just dropped a bomb on the Alliance Leaders as they gathered in the Lotus Stand of Gridania given the peaceful nature that surrounded them. Birds chirped cheerfully, flitting from branch to branch in cheerful song in the trees that circled the dais of flat stumps they all stood upon. The gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of summer roses and carnations, tickling Carine’s nose as she stood ever patiently off to the side. Purple lilies and their large green pads floated serenely upon the languid ebb and flow of water, pushed by the soft cascade of the waterfall that hummed its peaceful melody.

But there was a growing turmoil, a silent tempest beginning to rage as the Alliance Leaders looked to each other and to the two Elezen that had come bearing the grave news. 

Alphinaud, apt as ever, nodded his head to confirm their worry, “Indeed it is so.”

“A relief then, that he did not claim an heir. I suppose there is to be a war of succession then?” Raubahn asked, fingering his chin in contemplation. 

The young Elezen shook his head, casting doubt and trepidation into their lot as quickly as he had given them relief. “The war of succession has been waged and there is a new Emperor to sit upon the throne.”

A collective gasp rang out, each leader taking a step back as if they couldn’t believe their ears. “But so soon? How long has Emperor Solus been ill?” Kan-E-Senna asked. 

“Our sources claimed Solus zos Galvus’ death did not long follow their defeat in Eorzea,” the young Elezen replied, surprising Carine he had not cast a wicked glance at her in the endeavor. “There were but two that had the strongest claim upon the throne, but ‘twas Varis yae Galvus that had the military prowess to assert his authority whereas his uncle did not.”

“So young Varis tore the crown from the hands of his uncle and claimed leadership of the Empire,” Merlwyb contemplated aloud. “Then it stands to reason they shall make another attempt at obtaining Eorzea as the last nation for their Empire.”

The weight of those words hung heavily in the scented air, bearing down on each and every person present, Carine most of all. While guilt still twisted her gut like poorly cooked Dodo meat over the knowledge they were actively withholding information from the Alliance concerning Nero tol Scaeva, she was also fully aware that it would be her responsibility to be at the forefront of whatever attack the Empire launched against them now. It was she that they looked to for their source of strength, their light to guide them through, and that responsibility curdled her stomach further. 

“Be at ease, my friends,” Kan-E-Senna spoke, her voice gentle and sweet as the breeze that floated around them. “Given the troubled nature of his succession, there is no reason to believe his sights are set upon our home. He will require time to seal his seat and win over those that supported his uncle.”

Carine clenched her jaw and bit her tongue, a habit she found that she was forging in an attempt to control her outspokenness. She was just here to bear witness to their reaction as Alphinaud broke the news before heading to her mother’s modest abode for a few days of doing nothing but helping her. 

That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to think their reasoning was completely and utterly foolish. 

Alphinaud even agreed with her sentiment, shaking and waving his hands before the seeds of procrastination could fully be planted. “Have no doubt that he  _ will _ set his sights upon us, our resources have declared it so,” he told them. “There are none other in Garlemald with the strength or will to oppose him, and even if there were, he has the might of their army to turn against them should he well choose.”

Even Raubahn seemed to doubt Kan-E-Senna’s proclamation. “Since Operation Archon, the remnants of the XIVth legion have done naught but fortify the bordering castrums they yet control. There is little reason to doubt they will be ready and eager to march on us again if their emperor asks it of them.”

_ “When, _ not if. My own sources state that Varis was so set on Eorzean annexation that he openly opposed the Meteor project,” Merlwyb added, much to Carine’s great relief. 

The padjal considered their words carefully, closing her meadow green eyes before nodding her own agreement. “Plainly, this new emperor poses a threat. I propose that we set aside all other matters and allow time for the Alliance to discuss what measures to take for the resumption of Garlean hostilities.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, save the Warrior of Light. While she openly concurred with their plan to find safe measures for what the future may hold, putting aside all other matters was not going to get those in need taken care of. “And what of the situation in Ul’dah, Raubahn? Shall the plight of the refugees go unanswered in favor of debates over how to keep Eorzea safe?” she asked, her voice surprisingly cool and level - diplomatic even as she turned her lilac eyes to the dark skinned Highlander. 

But it was not he who answered. Instead, Kan-E-Senna narrowed her eyes upon the Warrior of Light, her staff gripped tightly in hand. “Your passion for the downtrodden is something to be admired, Carine, but it has no place here,” she scolded. Though the woman was several ilms shorter than she, the Elezen felt as but a child getting lectured. “A ruler is required to take a wide view. Try as we might to cater to all needs, some will inevitably be overlooked. As such, there shall always be citizens who feel aggrieved. It cannot be helped.”

The Warrior of Light swallowed, choking back tears that brimmed the lower lid of her eyes. She did not envy their position, it was nothing she would ever choose for herself even if it were an option, but to openly admit that there was a problem and consider it something that could not be helped broke something inside of her. These people weren’t simply aggrieved citizens, they were starving and dying more each day as they begged for the simplest of necessities. 

“Ahem,” Alphinaud cleared his throat, breaking the coiled tension that had been so frightfully close to snapping as Carine and the governess of Gridania faced off. “We did not merely come here to bear bad news. Carine and I have been working tirelessly with the former Ishgardian allies in an attempt to bring Eorzea together as one again.”

This lightened the mood considerably as the padjal turned her blonde head to the young Elezen. “‘Twould deal a grave blow to our enemy’s ambitions should Ishgard unite with our cause. Tell me, Master Alphinaud, what are the chances of reunion with our former allies?”

Alphinaud beamed, glad once again to be at the front and center of their attention. “At present, ‘tis unclear. We have made contact, however brief, with the lord commander of the Temple Knights and have forged meaningful relationships to several of the High Houses of Ishgard. I believe the chances of success in our endeavor are high, all things considered.”

Carine arched a brow. So it wasn’t only the information regarding Nero that the Scions were withholding, but the reluctance of the Ishgardians to abandon their war and join arms with the Alliance as well. As he put it, ‘twould seem that there was little reason to doubt their reclusive neighbors would join in on a fight should they but ask it of them when the reality was far from it. She had been there, she had witnessed with her own eyes the way Aymeric had denied their request without a second thought. 

He had even admitted to not having the power to promise such a future. 

She resigned herself from the rest of the talks, choosing instead to lean casually against a nearby tree and pick leaves from a bush to toss into the gentle stream at her feet. It had been made clear that her concerns were not of their own and thus she saw no reason to grace them with her presence. 

A good thing Primals were a threat to all of Eorzea otherwise she would be likely tempted to letting one rampage around their city-states for a time. That, and innocent lives would likely be affected. 

Morality was such a fickle thing at present.

When the talks had concluded, Alphinaud returned to her side, smirking as though he had done something so impressive it ought to have received honors. “Well, I suppose we should be grateful they are taking the Garlean threat seriously. Perhaps they’ll even do something about it,” he told her. ‘

“If only the leaders of Ishgard would follow their example rather than pray to their Fury that this coming storm pass them by,” the Warrior of Light mused, smirking at him from beneath the brim of her feathered hat. 

The sapphire of his his eyes darkened between narrow slits, catching her meaning and disliking her at the moment for it. “As if you are one to talk.”

She shrugged, “At least my problem hasn’t come to rear its golden head and likely won’t.”

_ “Yet.”  _ The word was curt, sharp, pointed, and it hit its mark earning himself a daggered glare from the Elezen he traveled with. “Either way, ‘tis not our primary concern. I am more worried these preparations they will soon be discussing reaching the ears of our Garlean foes, alerting them to our acquired knowledge, however illicitly we came about it.”

“So long as the Ivy eludes our grasp, ‘tis safe to say no secret of ours is safe,” Carine shook her head. Still there had been no progress as far as she knew on tracking their elusive Garlean spy. She had hoped the Scions of the Seventh Dawn would have held off on the information regarding the Emperor of Garlemald, but that had been compromised when their own spies had finally began to report everything Nero had told her over a month ago. 

Alphinaud nodded his agreement. “As much as I wish you were not taking your leave so that we might use you in our pursuit, I take it you shall be departing for Elaine’s soon?”

_ Yeah, I bet it pains you and your holier than thou attitude when it comes to my mistakes. _ The thought was cold, icy, and full of contempt as she covered her ire with a gentle smile. “It will be but for a few days, Alphy. And my linkpearl shall be ever on just in case the world cannot turn without a crisis at its center.”

That had been Minfilia’s one requirement, not that Carine had minded. It would be her luck that a new Primal would rear its ugly head, or the Garleans might lay upon them a surprise attack. Hells, there was always the possibility that Midgardsormr would raise from the dead and unleash whatever devastation the Ishgardians feared upon the land. Truly, she had experienced worse.

“Then I shall leave you to it. Enjoy your time, Carine. You have earned it.”

The young Elezen followed the other leaders from the Lotus Stand with Carine not too far behind. She had every intention of stopping by the Canopy to collect her mother’s favorite tea from Miounne before taking a ferry to the Lavender Beds. It had been too long since she had stopped by to see the cheerful head of the adventurer’s guild or tasted her fine brew.

It was time to change that.

The aetheryte plaza within New Gridania was a bustle of activity as the Warrior of Light materialized from the aetherical sea. Citizens and visitors alike milled about, exchanging their information or gossiping amongst themselves while a few small vendors attempted to draw in the crowd to examine their wares. Delicately crafted and hand painted vases were on display with bold, artfully arranged bouquets to draw the eye - their sweet floral scents filling the air as she strolled through the crowd. 

Carine only gave pause when the bright blue and white of a Crystal Braves uniform caught her attention. She was even more surprised to see said uniform belonged to Ilberd Feare himself. He stood there, his broad form towering over all save the graceful Elezen that walked past, his eyes focused so intently on something that he hardly noticed their passing. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Marshal,” Carine tapped his shoulder and giving the man a good jolt. 

His entire body went rigid, and his hand flying to the hilt of the blade he wore at his side did not go unnoticed as he turned on her. Once he recognized that it was simply the Warrior of Light, the Highlander relaxed, his face becoming apologetic. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, lass. ‘Tis not good for their health.”

“Oh please, you look plenty healthy,” she joked. “What brings you to Gridania? Did Alphinaud summon you after the talks concluded?”

Her eyes followed the sharp, broad line of his jaw, watching as it tensed and relaxed, and then tensed again. His pale eyes turned back to whatever he had been staring at, but he still made no move to answer her. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside, obscuring their view from whatever it was he was spying upon.

“Is aught amiss?” Carine asked, lowering her voice. He was tense, his entire being on edge, and it gave way to worry. Who was here in and what danger was posed by their presence? Was she needed? Did people need to leave or were they looking at mass panic akin to what happened in Ul’dah?

“Tell me, who was apart of your meeting this afternoon?” Ilberd asked, eyes never straying from their target. 

She blinked. “Er, Alphinaud and I...there was Raubahn and the Admiral as well as Kan-E-Senna. Each of them had a member of their guard present, but no one of note really. Why?”

“Was the Flame Marshal in attendance?”

“Was the Flame-?” she repeated the question. Why would it matter if Eline was present? “I do not recall her being there, no,” she replied with a firm shake of her head. “I would assume she is back in Ul’dah taking command of the Immortal Flames as is her position.”

He hummed, a low growl that she could feel just standing next to him. “Then why do I see her here right now?”

Carine followed his pointing finger, squinting to see past the mass of people floating from vendor to vendor until the form of the Flame Marshal came into focus. It was hard to pick her out of the Gridanian crowd, as many Elezen, especially the Wildwood, called this place home. She was dressed like a typical adventurer, a comfortable cotton top with a leather vest matched with cotton breeches and leather boots that laced to below her knees. She wore her usual circle spectacles, but her blonde hair was loose around her face rather than pulled away from her eyes. 

To Carine, there wasn’t a single thing wrong with this picture. “I haven’t a clue what this is supposed to mean, Ilberd. Mayhap she was given some time off by Raubahn and chose to come to Gridania. We could just ask her, you know?”

His large hand reached out, gripping her arm before she could get out of his reach, and pulled her back to his side. “You’ll do no such thing,” he growled in warning, grip tightening on her arm. “What do you know of Raubahn’s second in command?”

Carine puckered her brow, relenting her arm to the man so that he might loosen his hold on her. While she hadn’t known the man long, she hadn’t thought of him to be prone to anger this way. His cool, collective nature and sunny personality had been what had helped him soar to the rank of Brave Marshal, second in command to Commander Leveilleur. The man beside her, however, was a rough approximation of the man she had come to know. Though his grip was rough and forced, it wasn’t punishing. More like a protective parent holding back their child from running into the middle of the path with a speeding Chocobo passing through. But it was enough to cause alarm. 

“I know she is Ishgardian born and that she was a drafted bride to a Garlean,” Carine offered, thinking to what little she knew of the woman in question. She didn’t know what it had to do with anything. Eline was one of few brides that had managed to keep their life from falling apart after the Garleans were chased from their castrums, and Carine had applauded Raubahn for extending her job back to her upon her return. “Oh! She’s also considered unparalleled with a lance. Not that I have yet tested that theory.”

“You may soon will,” Ilberd replied, his manner gruff and raw. The Elezen’s brows hiked up nearly to her hairline at the proclamation made without hesitation. In fact, the man seemed utterly certain that it would come to blows. 

“Seven Hells, you don’t think Eline is the Ivy, do you?” The realization dawned on her the way a strong coffee made itself known after being finished. She wouldn’t stand for that belief, wouldn’t  _ agree _ with him that Eline would stoop to such levels, considering all the woman has been through. Few ever raised themselves from the low blooded of Ishgard; that she had learned from her mother and father. Fewer ever took themselves to such an esteemed rank. And there was  _ no one  _ Carine knew other than Eline Roaille that came back to their position after having lived five years with a Garlean with as much grace as she had. 

But Ilberd nodded his head in affirmation, leaving no room for her to doubt as she looked back to the pretty Elezen sniffing pink roses with the kindest of smiles upon her face. “The heretic. I got him to speak more of the person he was working for aside from Lady Iceheart,” he explained. “He knew not her name, only that she were an Elezen within the ranks of the Immortal Flames. Alas, there aren’t that many that bear that title.”

“I see,” she replied, softening her anger. “But that hardly points directly to her. I know she isn’t the only Wildwood on the Flames’ roster.”

“Of course not, but she’s the only one with all the connections.”

“How, exactly, do you mean?”

He sighed, peeling his eyes from watching the subject stroll idly through the stalls like any other woman just wishing for a day of shopping. “As you said, the Flame Marshal is Ishgardian born. Would explain her aiding the heretics if she harbors hard feelings towards her homeland. She works in Ul’dah, where most of the troubles have been taking place. I have a few leads tying her to one of the Monetarists, but which one is proving difficult. Bloody bastards cover their tracks too well,” he grumbled. “And the last should be the most obvious, lass. She was married to a Garlean.”

Heat gathered in her cheeks as anger pulsed through her at the implication. “I have my doubts that a drafted bride would willingly serve the abusive husband she was forced to marry once she was given freedom from his grasp.”

“Be that as it may, there have been rumor of some women wishing they could return to their tin headed lovers,” he wrinkled his face in disgust, evidently horrified at the thought. “Do you know Eline well enough to know that she did not harbor soft feelings for her husband?”

She shook her head. They had been in separate castrums while Carine had been living with Nero, and even had they been in the same place, Carine never spent too much time with the other brides. Most of them had been matched with lower ranking officers while she had been paired with a Tribunus Laticlavius, which put her far from the other brides to begin with. When she started working for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, she had convinced herself that she would free those that she saw hiding their bruised faces and wounded pride with thick clothing, as that was all she had ever glimpsed…

It wasn’t until she had attended meetings that gathered these brides together to give them a place to feel comfortable when their old home no longer wanted them and the other had been a life of misery that she had learned of the horrors they had endured. 

“Still, you know one other Elezen with connections to Ishgard that was married to a Garlean, one with an easier lot than most.” her voice was soft, sotto, as she dropped her shoulders. “That’s not to mention that same woman killed refugees in Ul’dah just two days after one of them had spoken illy towards her.” 

In an instant she could feel his gaze upon her and the shame he felt as he realized what he had implied. Try as he might to find the proper words to soothe the pain of the open wounds ripped open by his words, they simply didn’t exist. He sighed, “You have proven your worth. You fought the Garleans and won. You were born in Gridania and never suffered the injustice of Ishgard, and those refugees would have died either way, be it your arrows or Rhalgr’s destruction.”

She wanted to thank him for his support, but the words were heavy as the weight of the ring currently hanging from her neck. Soft. She had been soft on Nero. It hadn’t been love, but it hadn’t simply been mild tolerance either. 

And Ilberd seemed to think it intolerable. 

“Blast it, I can’t see her anymore,” he cursed, standing on his tiptoes to give his height more advantage. “Come, my sources say she is to be making an exchange today with her Garlean contacts. I’d like to see it with mine own eyes to be certain.”

Carine quite agreed. 

It took several minutes of them searching before one of the other Braves that had come with Ilberd had spotted Eline heading towards the Canopy. Upon arriving there, their contact had informed them she had retired to one of the rooms in the inn, complicating the mission. Carine had tried to talk the innkeep into letting them know which room Eline had purchased, but he had refused on the grounds of clientele privacy. As they had no warrant to arrest her, there was no reason they, or the Warrior of Light, needed her information. 

“Did it occur to you that mayhap she truly was just shopping?” Carine asked, taking a seat at one of the tables. 

Ilberd shook his head, pacing back and forth just to the side of her. “‘Tis a good thing you are an eikon slayer rather than an officer,” he paused long enough to wink at her. “You would have fallen for her bait and she would yet slip away. Nay, Eline knows she is being watched and is trying to throw us off her trail.”

To Carine, retiring to an inn room seemed like the opposite of trying to throw them off the trail. It cornered her if nothing else. But as he had stated, she had precious little experience in such matters. “All I hope is you have sufficient proof and a plan in case she does escape your watchful eye.”

“Aye, I have men stationed at every dock, aetheryte, gate, and airship landing. If she makes a move, we shall know of it,” he replied. “As for proof, if we catch her red handed in the exchange, that’s all we’ll need. If not, then I have half a dozen men trawling through the Immortal Flames’ records from the day she was hired to the present. They’ll likely find something suspicious.”

_ Something like smelling flowers at a street vendor, _ but she kept that thought to herself.

It was over a bell before there was any word, and it wasn’t as they had been expecting. According to one of the Doman shinobi, noted by his necklace and foreign nature, Eline had left by ferry towards the East Shroud dressed as a merchant. Ilberd wasted no time conjuring a spell to transport his being to Hawthorne Hut followed quickly by Carine who had to witness this betrayal with her own eyes before she would believe it. 

 

“Why would she conduct her meetings here in the Shroud?” Carine asked, trotting along beside the Highlander as he pushed his way through the overgrown brambles. 

“That’s easy enough. Being just below Raubahn within the Immortal Flames, she couldn’t walk through Thanalan without being recognized even with a proper disguise,” he explained. “And there are already so many of your kind here, what would one more Elezen woman be but a face in a sea of faces?”

“Yes, but  _ why? _ If she truly is corresponding with the remaining of the XIVth Legion, don’t they have technology that far exceeds our own? Why not just create a device that would allow them to communicate over long distances?”

It seemed the exact sort of solution Nero would come to, if he were to be behind any of this at all. She didn’t find it likely that he was the mastermind, given his extravagant nature. Secrecy wasn’t a strong suit of the man she had called husband, not when he wanted and needed to be recognized for his genius talent. 

“Aye, and they did for a time. Master Garlond saw to it they couldn’t once it had been discovered and designed a jammer for Garlean signals,” Ilberd’s lip quirked up at that. “The only decent one of the lot, I’ll say. It rendered whatever gadgets they bestowed upon her useless, which gave us a paper trail that lead us to this secret correspondence.”

Carine didn’t like following Eline into the Bramble Patch. It was miserable business cutting through the thick brambles of thorns, even following behind a mountain of a man like Ilberd. It was hot, tiring work that only rewarded them with cuts and scrapes that burned as time went on, the coating of the thorns a mild irritant to the skin. Burrs stuck to their hair, thorns ripped at their clothing, and the sweat stung her wounds as they pushed their way through in search of Eline Roaille.

She felt as though she were doing the woman a disservice for not fully believing her innocent. Given the way Ilberd clenched his jaw with fire in his eyes, it was difficult to imagine he didn’t truly believe he was doing the right thing. And seeing as they were trekking through some of the most difficult terrain in all the Twelveswood, she was half a mind to at least consider than he was not wrong. 

All her doubts were banished the moment she caught Eline Roaille giving an Imperial salute to a man dressed as an adventurer that saluted her back. 

Though her doubts were banished, she couldn’t help but to stare in disbelief at what her eyes were telling her. Why would this woman who had already endured so much at the hands of the Garleans choose to work with them against her homeland? Even Carine, as torn as she was about working for the enemy or protecting her people as she was still chose Eorzea, and Nero hadn’t ever been outright sinister to her in the way some Garleans were. 

And then came the bargaining. Surely Eline was just doing this to get more information about the Garleans movements and positions to better prepare them for future wars against them. She knew as well as anyone else the Garleans would come knocking on their door again, they just didn’t know when. Maybe Raubahn had assigned her such a dangerous mission because she was the only one within his ranks that knew the enemy. 

But it was anger that won out in the end. Pure, white hot anger that seared through her bones and boiled the blood coursing through her veins. It wasn’t a question of why she did this, but  _ how could she? _ The Garleans had done naught but sow the seeds of discord and destruction and oppression against everything they touched. They took women, pulled apart families, destroyed their lives and for what? To ensure the longevity of their own menacing race. She would trade all of their freedom for what? What price was worth all their lives that she was willing to pay in blood?

“Flame Marshal Roaille, you are under arrest for treason and espionage!” Ilberd shouted, drawing his blade and approaching the woman. Carine, bowless this day as she had only come to Gridania for the talks and to visit her mother, pulled the daggers she always kept tucked in her boots for safe measure. 

“You bloody fool! You were followed!” the Imperial dressed as an adventurer cursed, turning his own blade upon the Elezen that simply turned her elegant head in their direction. 

Carine, seeing red, reached for one of her throwing knives and flicking it towards the Imperial, its sharp blade piercing his sword hand and forcing him to drop the weapon. She grabbed his other arm, twisting it behind his back while holding one dagger to his side. “I’ve no mood to be gentle,” she growled in his ear. “I dare you to try me.”

Her tone must have been frightening for he immediately stopped his struggling and accepted his fate. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Eline asked, looking towards Carine with arched brows. “‘Tis it now a crime to stroll through the Twelveswood? Or to converse with a passing stranger?”

“Only when said stranger is a Garlean and the conversation has to do with the state of Eorzean affairs,” Ilberd replied. “I’ll note you are a lady weaponless and without proper armor for a fight. I shall gladly give you one should it be your desire, but I would much rather you come quietly.”

Eline simply shrugged, unbothered by the turn of events though they clearly weren’t in her favor. “Very well, Captain. I have naught to hide.” She held out her wrists for binding, to which Ilberd did gladly and without remorse.

“Feign ignorance all you wish, I yet know the truth,” he growled, pulling her along roughly with Carine following behind with her own prisoner. 

“We shall see about that, Captain Feare. As I told you before, I have naught to hide.”


	22. Between the Mother and the Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And that was when Carine realized her biggest mistake of all. She had come here alone, without the aid of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and had attempted to fight a being whom was too powerful for her to overcome and she had lost. “You would doom the realm and all within it? ‘Tis that Hydaelyn’s wish? Or your own?”_

“Sadly this is all out of our jurisdiction,” Minfilia shook her head as the Scions gathered within the solar. It had been two days since Roaille’s arrest and she hadn’t spoken a word to anyone sent in to inquire about her dealings. She continued to keep with the charade, feigning innocence as Ilberd and Alphinaud both attempted to get answers. 

Carine felt it was now her turn to try.

“I understand that, Minfilia, but surely you can pull  _ some _ strings,” the Elezen pleaded. “She might find me easier to talk to, given our similar backgrounds.”

But Minfilia and the others shook their heads. Already they had decided that Carine would get as much from her as the rest of them had, and their time had run out. Raubahn and his Immortal Flames had come to collect their traitor and return her to Ul’dah at once for their own questioning and persecution. 

“That could be exactly what she wants, to get you alone,” Thancred pointed out. “If the Ivy truly was behind the events in Ul’dah, ‘tis likely the case.”

Carine hmph’d, crossing her arms over her chest. “Right, like Eline Roaille could defeat me in combat.”

“‘Tis not a matter if she defeats you in combat, but if she extracts key information she does not yet have,” Y’shtola explained. “Not to mention you already have a soft spot for the woman, given your background. ‘Twould not surprise me in the slightest if she took you by surprise and gained the upper hand. We can ill afford to lose you.”

The Warrior of Light groaned. She was at her wits end with the Scions at the moment. How they talked about needing her and how precious she was to them, they hadn’t seemed to send her on anything of great importance save the trip to Coerthas. Even then, she wouldn’t likely have gone had she not been forced to spill the sack about Nero. 

No. She had turned into little more than an errand girl they needed to babysit at all times just in case she took matters into her own hands again and fucked the world up. Now she was an icon, one to be paraded through the city-states to inspire the commoner that so long as she stands before them, they have nothing at all to fear. 

They had turned her into some godsdamned paragon. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be taking a vacation?” Yda asked, her lilted voice grating as she turned her masked face towards her. 

Of  _ course _ she was, but given the circumstances how was she supposed to just sit around and relax? They all believed they had captured the Ivy, and mayhap they had, but if this was all another set up to frame an innocent person that had suffered enough in their life, Carine wanted to know. “Seems the wrong time, don’t you think?”

On the other hand, there was another troubling thought niggling at the back of her mind. She was certain there had been an Ascian in Ul’dah that day. She had watched it disappear into the darkness of the abandoned building that Eline had come from. Whether any of the other Scions had yet made that connection, the Elezen wasn’t sure, but  _ she _ hadn’t forgotten. If she had connections to the Ascians, she needed to know about it and why. 

Even if it would break her heart. 

“I can’t think of a better time,” Minfilia said, her tone tinged with finality. That was it. Carine was being forced into taking a few days off duty all because she had a personal connection to the Ivy case. 

Damned her and her wayward emotions that seemed to control all sense and reason when she’d rather it not.

The Warrior of Light bowed and nodded curtly before turning on her heel and exiting the solar. She couldn’t argue she needed the rest, not when she had seen her reflection in the mirror just that morning. Dark bags under her dull, lilac eyes and skin pale and taut across her cheekbones. Even her hair, normally a bright silver, seemed dull and lifeless as she had pulled it into its braid. Sleepless nights weren’t doing her any favors. 

The growing rift between her and the Scions had created a new dynamic as well. Rather than tell them everything she knew as she learned of it, Carine preferred to keep the information to herself. Such as the case with the connection of Eline and the Ascian. But now, now she was refusing to tell them of the dreams that haunted her every night, leaving her bed soaked with her sweat and her heart racing in her chest. Though she could never remember the specifics of said dreams, she always woke with a longing to go and explore the wreckage of the  _ Agrius _ and the coiled form surrounding it. 

Even now the fallen ship and the wyrmking seemed to call to her like a siren song, drawing her from the safety of the Rising Stones into the wilderness of Mor Dhona. No amount of powerful sleeping draughts would help her resist the temptation to go there, and the longer she stayed in Revenant’s Toll, the worse it became. She could feel it as she strolled through the parlor, the desire tickling at her skin and beckoning her to continue straight rather than turn right to the living quarters that were her destination. By sheer will alone was she able to resist it. 

Perhaps it would be better to tell someone, Y’shtola maybe, as she seemed to be the most pragmatic of the lot of them. If she told Thancred, there was little doubt he would just run to Minfilia first thing and inform her at once. She could hardly call the others more than mere acquaintances, given how little time she spent with them. The only other person she might could confess would have been Moenbryda, but in the little time she had spent with the Roegadyn, she knew she would become some sort of experiment.

No, she simply needed sleep. A good long rest before heading out in the morning to go visit her mother for a few days to recharge and hopefully find a new outlook on things. 

Carine entered her chambers and willed herself to carefully shut the door rather than slam it with her agitation. Her nerves were worn thin, her fuse too short, and she damn well knew it. Even  _ if _ Minfilia had wanted her to interview the suspect, Carine was painfully aware of just how ill-prepared she was to do so. Her addled brain would have likely caused more trouble than it was worth, but that realization did nothing to aid her mood. If anything, it made it worse. 

She inhaled deeply and released a heavy sigh, repeating the process a few more times in an effort to become more exhausted than she already was. When that wasn’t working, she turned to her desk to sift through the letters piled high in an attempt to find something rather boring to read. To her great delight there were several letters from Haurchefant that had somehow escaped her notice. She blamed the state of her sleep deprived being for somehow overlooking them but thanked the Twelve in the same breath. 

 

_ Dearest Carine,  _

_ I pray this letter finds you well. It has been a while since last I heard from you, though I have been assured by Minfilia you have been keeping yourself busy. Alas, I have been ever busy myself. The heretics are growing more bold by the day, though Lady Iceheart remains a mystery. The Dravanians are also growing more active of late. According to the Astrologians at the Observatorium, the dragon star grows ever brighter, signaling the awakening of Midgardsormr. Again, Minfilia assures that we will be informed if there are any changes with the Keeper of the Lake.  _

_ ‘Tis still bitter and cold here, mayhap more so since you left. The sun has hidden itself behind perpetual clouds once again. Mayhap if you would return, so too would it. I do hope you come visit us again soon, when the Warrior of Light finds the time, of course. My hearth is ever open to you should you find yourself in need of it or if you find yourself impossibly bored and in need of company. Not that I imagine you would ever find yourself impossibly bored as you are continuing your sword and shield training. You will be tested!  _

_ Your friend, _

_ Haurchefant Greystone _

 

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face or the flutter in her heart as she read the words once again after crawling into her bed. To think that even now he was still thinking of her warmed her very soul. She decided with the few days she had off, she would divide them between her mother and paying him a visit once again. A day trip to Coerthas wouldn’t been  _ too _ hard to make happen, especially considering the aetheryte was located right in the middle of Camp Dragonhead. 

She even considered she might miss the eclectic lord as she wrapped herself in the mounds of blankets and waited to succumb to her dreams.

 

***

 

Precious sleep eluded her as the night waned on. It started with mere cramps in her belly, a potential warning that her menstrual cycle was now at hand. Carine would simply cast a soothing spell to help get her comfortable, but soon that seemed to do nothing for the pain. She tossed and turned, back now aching and burning in a way that she had never experienced before. It wasn’t the worst pain and discomfort that she experienced, but it was enough to make her feel ill to her stomach. 

Attributing it to the high stress of everything she had been going through for the past year finally catching up, she looked through the drawer at her bedside to see if there were any sleeping potions to help. Carine always tried to keep a few well stocked just in case as nightmares of Bahamut and primals and Marni often plagued her subconscious, and thankfully there was enough there to get her through the night as well as a healing potion. She drank them both down, emptying the flasks for good measure, and then waited for blessed sleep to come at last. 

But it didn’t. 

The pain migrated, if that was even possible, to her chest. Her heart throbbed painfully and faster than it should have. Sweat poured from her brow, wetting her hair as she gripped the sheets tightly with her hands. The more she tossed and turned, the worse it became until her head was exploding. Try as she might to ignore the discomfort, Carine couldn’t, rising up out of bed and stalking towards the door. Urianger might know something, or Y’shtola. She would  _ definitely _ know what was going on. 

But when her hand touched the handle to her door, one crystal clear image of the wyrm coiled around the fallen  _ Agrius _ popped into her mind. During that brief moment, the pain stopped completely, surprising her enough to pull her hand away. As she did, the pain came back, nearly bringing her to her knees with its force. 

_ What in Seven fucking Hells? _

Carefully she pulled on whatever clothes and boots were closest to her, the pain almost too great to bear if she left the door. For good measure, she also grabbed her bow, stringing it to her back as she walked out of her room. 

The Rising Stones was mostly silent. The halls were dark and the sounds of sleeping Scions echoed through their chambers. Carine tiptoed through the hall, glancing nervously around corners as she sought to ease the discomfort within her. Whatever was causing the pain and calling to her had to do with the wreckage on Silvertear Lake, and she intended to discover the source and put an end to it. 

_ Or maybe I’ve finally lost my marbles and I wish to catch my death in the cold wilderness of Mor Dhona, _ she mused, checking to make sure there was no one else around. That was the one reason why she didn’t bother telling Minfilia about her particularly strong desire to go there when she first arrived. Either this was something to concern the Scions or Carine was imagining things, though it was hard to just conjure up that sort of pain upon one’s self she imagined. 

Thankfully not a soul stirred within the sleeping quarters of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. The same could not be said for the rest of the Rising Stones, though to her benefit there were few people milling about. Some nodded and waved with sleepy smiles on their faces, others curiously glanced her way, wondering where she might be going at this late hour. With her bow strapped to her back, anything was possible. 

The moment Carine stepped outside, she immediately regretted not grabbing a coat. Though Mor Dhona wasn’t nearly as cold as Coerthas, the chilly night air was still too cold for one to travel comfortably without some protection, especially if a wind picked up. The upside was, at least the pain in her head, chest, and stomach was ebbing away with every step, slowly being replaced with a deep desire to head to the lake. 

When she walked through the gate, her mind drifted, focusing blindly on the path ahead. She could barely make out the towering shadow in the distance, the massive wings obscuring the starlit sky and marking her destination. Her feet developed a mind of their own as she gave in, letting the feeling guide her through the darkness on what she hoped was the safest path. 

Night sounds faded away, the silence of her journey deafened her, but still she walked until her toes touched the cool water. Even the sharp bite of the lake wasn’t enough to pull her from her daze, the need to get there making her wade deeper and deeper until she was swimming towards the wreckage. Somewhere, deep down, Carine knew there was a boat, but a boat meant there was someone that would ferry her there, and no one needed to know where she was going or why. 

Hells,  _ she _ didn’t even know why. 

She swam to a small opening, just large enough for her to pass through, and pulled herself onto the corroded surface of the fallen magitek flagship. Stale air hung heavy in the air, stealing the breath from her lungs as she rubbed her arms for warmth. Broken pieces of Garlean crafted gear littered the battered floor, threatening to trip her with every step she took. 

The calling seemed to cease the moment she entered the ship, but Carine knew if she tried to leave it would only come back stronger. She was lured here for a reason, whether by Hydaelyn or another force, she didn’t know though she intended to find out. Luck even appeared on her side in the form of a broken magitek lantern that still somehow had power left to spare as she tapped it against her hand.

If she had to give the Garleans credit for anything, their magitek was at least impressive if it could hold up after fifteen years of decay.

Cautiously she climbed the wreckage, taking the easy routes when they could be found. A few creatures had taken up residence within the mess, but most ignored her so long as she gave them a wide berth. From the looks of things, the Garleans had practically stripped the thing as best they could during their occupation. Rivets where cannons had once been stored were empty or broken, the weapon nowhere in sight. Cords of wires hung from the pieces of the ship that had broken apart, fifteen years of weather making them no more dangerous than a vine in the Twelveswood. 

Little by little, Carine made her way to the top, whatever force that lead her here now guiding where she needed to go. A few surprise encounters with dragons and drakes helped warm her freezing limbs and before she disposed of them, she allowed the begins to set fire to some flags that hung lifelessly against the steel of the ship. No one needed them and she could take some time to gain precious warmth in the process. 

But the thing that stopped her dead in her tracks was the giant head of the wyrmking hanging directly over the platform at the very top of the ship. 

The maw of the beast was half open, as if inhaling for a mighty roar, revealing rows of sharp jagged teeth meant for shredding and destroying. Giant fins jutted out from behind his jaw, petrified from years of exposure to the dry, cold air and gloom of Mor Dhona. The scales, a dull, muddy brown, appeared brittle, though the plates on its neck were thick and impenetrable. Everything about this creature screamed apex predator, each part of its body a potential weapon from the claws she knew gripped the  _ Agrius _ to the severe spikes along its back. 

Even in death, this monster was terrifying. 

_ Alright, Hydaelyn, here I am. What do you want from me now? _ Carine asked, setting the lamp down in favor of feeling the reassurance of her bow in her hand. As it had been since the night the Garleans were driven from Eorzea, the goddess remained ever silent. Where she had gone, the Warrior of Light didn’t know, but if she had the strength to guide her here, surely she would at least tell her what she wanted. 

_ Hear...Feel...Think… _

She could almost hear the Mother Crystal’s message, though it was but a memory. Well, there was nothing to hear but the creaking and groaning of rusted metal. There was nothing to feel except the bitter fucking cold wind that now whipped around her, sending her into a violent fit of shivers. And what in Seven Hells was she supposed to be thinking about when faced with the dry carcass of a dragon that died taking down a Garlean flagship over fifteen years ago?

And then the damn thing  _ moved. _

Aether swirled in the air, picking up bits of dust and moving the stuff too heavy for the wind to carry. Carine covered her eyes, praying to Nophica that this was just a bad dream as the aether collected in a silvery, phantom-like form of the dragon staring her down. It roared, the bellow loud enough to shake the entire wreckage under her feet and reverberate through the valley. If the Scions had been sleeping, they were surely awake after that. 

Without warning, the being struck at her, its long neck striking out to land a deadly blow. Carine twisted and grabbed an arrow from her quiver, jabbing its pointed edge into the aetheric flesh of the wyrm. A howl followed the attack, and it pulled back, thrashing its head from side to side. It struck again, and again, and again, each time in a different location that became increasingly difficult to predict and counter, though it did seem vulnerable to her attacks. 

Arrow after arrow launched from her bow, striking the beast near the weakest points of its face, the eyes. But the Warrior of Light only had so many arrows, and the Blessing wouldn’t come when she called for it, soon leaving her defenseless. 

_ “So you too possess the Echo…” _ a deep, resonating voice spoke, stopping her in her tracks as she prepared to make a run for it. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could take that thing on without backup...but it must have sensed her plan for it to have spoken directly to her.  _ “That is why the phantom cannot win over you.” _

“I’m sorry, the what?” she asked. As if to answer her question, the wyrm conjured the silvery being again, though it soon faded.

Great, this thing could make dangerous illusions. Just what she needed right before a much needed break. 

_ “If that the case may be, ‘twould seem it is Hydaelyn’s will that we converse,” _ the wyrm went on.  _ “Speak, mortal, and I shall listen.” _

It knew Hydaelyn? How? What was their connection? He had mentioned something about the Echo as well, which meant he must have some sort of sensitivity. “I-I don’t know why I have come here,” Carine replied honestly. “Something pulled me here, but to what end? I could not tell you. I would ask, however, how is it you are alive? We have thought you dead for over fifteen years…’tis impossible…”

_ “Nothing is impossible,” _ he replied.  _ “And ‘twas the power of the Echo that has brought thou to me and hath stirred me from my slumber.” _

This was bad. This was  _ really _ bad. This took what she had done concerning Nero look but like child’s play, if what the dragon said was true. It wasn’t as though it had been her intention to wake him, she wasn’t aware the Echo was capable of bringing the dead back to life, but she imagined no one would look highly upon her for doing it without her knowledge.

_ “What precious little thou knowest, mortal,” _ he hummed, his deep bass rattling her chest in what she might consider mild amusement.  _ “I did not perish that day and the Echo cannot wake the dead.” _

Somehow that brought her little relief. Just imagining what Ser Aymeric would think of her should he learn that her power was the one stirring the giant he and his people greatly feared was enough to sicken her stomach. “Then...how?”

_ “I used my strength and might to bring low the Garlean forces that threatened the home of mine brood. When it was all but spent, I rested to regain mine power. ‘Tis early yet, but the will of Hydaelyn waits for no one.” _

“But why would She wish us to meet? What purpose does that serve?” Carine asked.  _ And how do you bloody know Her when you are a supposed threat to Her children? _

The wyrmking grew unnaturally silent, his cold, stone-like eyes narrowing on her as he scrutinized her worth. Under his domineering gaze she felt herself shrinking, becoming smaller and smaller, insignificant even, as he searched her for something. What it was, she didn’t know and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

_ “Thou bearest the stench of haste,” _ he concluded, almost wrinkling his nose at her in disgust. 

Well, that wasn’t at all what she had been expecting. 

“I beg your pardon?” she growled looking down at her state of dress. “Wasn’t it you that just stated the will of Hydaelyn waits for no one? I wasn’t under the impression you needed me to be dressed in formal attire to be graced with your presence.”

This only seemed to displease him more.  _ “Thy tongue knows no limits. Thou acts without thought of consequence and speak before thou hast the chance to hear. Hast thou already forgotten the one lesson Hydaelyn teaches all Her children?” _ His voice was deeper, angrier. She had apparently offended the beast with her sharp words. 

“Well it might help if She would check in every once in a while. Let me know if what I’m doing is what She wants. I’m no bloody mind reader,” Carine retorted. She knew he had meant his words as a warning, she practically felt it as he had spoken, yet just as he had said, she had done so in haste. 

The Warrior of Light soon regretted that decision.

In learning that the beast was somehow associated with the Mother Crystal, she had become lax in her stance. As fearsome as Midgardsormr had appeared, she had let down her guard in favor of listening to what he had to say. Which was another mistake as the being lunged at her without warning, opening his maw and delivering a magical attack that would have been impossible to avoid. 

Her eyes widened in horror, her arms covering her face as instinct took over, but she knew she was already done for. Her sharp tongue and bad temper had finally become the death of her, she was sure of it as the white hot heat of his flames engulfed her.

But her skin never burned, her hair never singed, and though she had lost her breath in the intense heat that had attempted to consume her, Carine was otherwise unharmed. 

_ “This light? You protect her? One with which thou hast already bestowed upon the Echo?” _ Midgardsormr’s voice rattled, shaken with the discovery of the shield of light that had somehow manifested around her. 

She could hardly believe it herself as shaky hands felt along her being to find it still intact. Her hand gripped her bow, equal parts fear and anger now at war as she tried to decide what to do. Should she run from this place as fast as she can and inform the Ishgardians their foe was yet weak enough he could be defeated? Or should she stand and fight this beast that dared attack her for no other reason that he was offended?

_ “I shall not put thee to harm, mortal,”  _ he growled, watching her indecision with interest bordering agitation.  _ “Thou art not just gifted, but chosen by Hydaelyn. If thou comest to harm, it shall be by another’s hand, not mine.” _

But his words were lost on the wind as he opened his maw again and shot forth another light. This time, there was no shield to protect her as the light pierced her very soul. Soundlessly, Carine looked up at the wyrm, mouth hung open as searing agony stole her voice. It was all she could do to stand there and stare up at him, open-mouthed in a silent scream. 

She was sure she was dead, there was no other explanation as she sank to her knees. A part of her, whatever part it was, had been severed. Its jagged edges were raw and bleeding, though there wasn’t a wound upon her. “W-what did you do..t’me?” she croaked, voice cracking and breaking over the words as though she no longer knew how to speak proper.

He rumbled, satisfied with himself, but she hurt too badly to be angry.  _ “Perhaps thou thinkest me an oathbreaker, but thou art whole,” _ he told her.  _ “I but stripped thee of Hydaelyn’s blessing, honoring mine promise to Her thee shall not cometh to harm. But thou hast much yet to learn as thou hast forgotten Her teachings.” _

And that was when Carine realized her biggest mistake of all. She had come here alone, without the aid of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and had attempted to fight a being whom was too powerful for her to overcome and she had lost. “You would doom the realm and all within it? ‘Tis that Hydaelyn’s wish? Or your own?” she gasped in equal parts pain and desperation. 

_ “Thine realm is not doomed, mortal. And if Hydaelyn woke me by bringing thee here, then She meant for thee to be tested. Thou still hast the power of the Echo coursing through thine veins. Prove thee worthy of Her blessing and thou shall be bestowed it once again,” _ Midgardsormr replied.

“But how? How can I defeat Primals without the Blessing of Light to strike them down?”

_ “‘Tis not for me to instruct, only to test. Thou must earn Hydaelyn’s blessing for ‘tis not simply a gift. What use She has for a mortal with no direction, I do not yet know, but I will observe thine trials to bear witness mineself to thy worth,” _ he stated, lifting his great, scaled head away from her. Soon it stilled, returning to its petrified state, leaving Carine to believe she was alone. 

She didn’t know how he was going to watch her and wasn’t sure she wanted to know as she fought to collect her bearings. The pain was still sharp, like daggers poking her flesh in all directions, but it was becoming more bearable the longer she waited to move. When it had turned into nothing more than a dull throb centered in her chest, Carine picked herself off the ground and dusted off her clothes. 

To test the theory, the Elezen inhaled deeply and sought to call the Blessing to her as she had been practicing for months now. She searched deep within her being, finding the last tendrils of the magic the Mother Crystal had bestowed her, but never finding the river that once coursed through her soul. Instead there was blackness, a void, deep and eternal. There would be no more weapons of light or a shield to protect her in a moment of weakness. 

Hydaelyn had truly abandoned her to the will of Midgardsormr.


	23. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Damn him! Damn him for having an answer to her every problem. Damn him for comforting her. Damn him for wanting her as badly as she wanted him._

Carine left the Rising Stones the next day without so much as a farewell. She didn’t know how to face them or how to tell them that she had stolen away into the night thanks to bad dreams she never warned them of and had subsequently lost the Blessing. Was she even the Warrior of Light anymore? She didn’t know and didn’t wish to stick around to find out the answer right away from the people she had come to consider friends and allies. 

She went to Gridania, hoping to find some small comfort in her mother’s wise words. It had seemed like ages since she had seen Eline, and now more than ever she needed her. Whether she would know what to say or do, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. It wasn’t as though there was a guide book into being the Warrior of Light or which decisions to make or how to speak diplomatically when all one wanted to do was proclaim most people idiots. 

But hadn’t she been the fool this time? Keeping her dreams to herself and trekking through the wilderness in the dead of night alone? Hadn’t she been the one to confront a bloody wyrmking that could swallow her whole? She wasn’t stupid, or perhaps she was, but she would at least acknowledge that this was entirely her doing. Like Thancred before, she hadn’t told anyone anything, but rather than become possessed by an Ascian, she had lost the very power that allowed her to put down eikons. 

Carine was well and truly lost with what to do.

Her mother’s cottage sat nestled in a far corner of the Lavender Beds partially shrouded by the thick trees that grew behind it. Violaine’s garden grew in the sunlit area, safely out of reach of the Chocobo pasture where Rose and Buck were now scratching at the ground. They lifted their long necks, pointing their rounded beaks in her direction with cheerful k’wehs, but ultimately resumed what seemed to be important Chocobo business. 

It wasn’t like Eline to leave them out of their stalls unless she meant to be gone for more than a few hours. The thought settled uneasily upon Carine as she walked up the stairs and tried the door. As she feared, it was locked. She looked through the potted plants that adorned her mother’s porch for the spare key, and upon finding it, twisted it in the lock and let herself inside. 

Despite the turmoil curdling her stomach, walking in through the front door brought a sense of relief. The house was kept just as it always had been, from the large living room with its tall bookshelves to the small kitchen where her mother’s masterpieces were created. Paintings of the three of them, Eline and both daughters, decorated the walls along with the few childish masterpieces Carine and Violaine had made their mother. 

Carine made her way into the kitchen to see if her mother had left anything to eat in the cold box and was surprised to find it remarkably empty. If there was one thing Eline didn’t do, it was leave her cold box empty in case someone was to drop by...or a long lost daughter was to finally return home. Where had she gone? 

A turning key in the lock made her jump and turn around to see who the intruder was. When Miounne’s gentle face peered through the door, Carine relaxed and called out to her, giving the other Elezen quite the fright. 

“What in hells are you doing here?” Miounne pressed her hands to her chest to collect her bearings. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here!”

“I managed to convince the Scions of the Seventh Dawn to give me a vacation,” Carine smiled. At the horrified look on the other woman’s face, she tapped her ear where her linkpearl was firmly nestled. “Don’t worry, if the world begins falling apart I’m just a call away.”

Relief replaced the shock, but did nothing to mask the curiosity in Miounne’s gaze. “Did your mother not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She was heading to La Noscea with some friends, I believe Wineport. She won’t be coming home for several more days and has asked that I come feed the birds,” Miounne replied. “With Violaine yet missing and you traipsing about all over Eorzea, she’s been wishing to get out more often, but I would have thought she would have at least warned you in case you came around.”

_ So would I... _ Carine thought to herself. Then again, there was a massive stack of unread missives piling her desk back at the Rising Stones. It was likely her mother’s letter had been buried under the mess. “Well I should at least thank you for keeping her affairs in order. Is there anything you might need?” she offered, racking her brain for any other option she might have. It wouldn’t do for her to be alone with her thoughts, even in her mother’s house, and going to the Scions at the moment wasn’t an option. She had to figure out how to deal with this mess before she confronted them.

“I’m afraid not. Eline is always prepared, as you well know. Will you be staying here then?” The Elezen asked. 

Carine shook her head, a plan coming to mind. “Nay. I wished to pay Mama a visit, but if she is off with her friends, I won’t discourage her from taking time for herself. She’s earned it. But if she asks for me, tell her I am taking my break in Coerthas.”

Miounne wrinkled her nose, brows nearly touching on her forehead in disgust. “Why in Seven Hells are you vacationing in Coerthas?”

The Warrior of Light simply smiled, “I have some lessons I have been slacking on. ‘Twould do some good to get back into practice, and my instructor is there.”

“Apparently our ideas of vacationing share no similarities,” the woman frowned. “But I shall relay your message all the same. Take care, Carine. Do try not to work too hard.”

_ A little too late for that... _ Carine smiled and waved goodbye as she walked out the door. She stopped only long enough to tack Buck up and take him along with her to the cold wasteland where she knew there would be at least one eager lord to welcome her.

 

***

 

Haurchefant looked down at the war table, blue eyes narrowing and scrutinizing every little detail he could. They needed to get ahead of Lady Iceheart and her heretics as much as they needed to pierce their blades into the hearts of the scalekin that grew more restless with each passing day. She struck without warning, raiding caravan after caravan and disappearing into thin air as quickly as she launched the attacks. How she knew when the storms would be the worst, burying their footprints in the snow, he could hardly guess. 

Ser Aymeric wasn’t faring much better. 

He was stationed in Whitebrim Front looking over the same table Haurchefant currently was, memorizing each detail just as the lord was and coming up with naught. The woman was a devil, a tricky devil set on uprooting their livelihood to find favor in bloody  _ dragons. _ It was almost as if she hated her own kind, driving them into extinction and for what? What purpose did any of this serve?

And blast it all, there was no rhyme or reason to her attacks. Each location he had marked with a red ‘X’ seemed completely unrelated to the others, each shipment destined for other holds bearing different goods. Some carried weapons, others carried goods, and still others carried nothing more than bloody crystals. The only commonality between them all was that the culprits had disappeared without a trace.

A commotion at the door dragged his attention from the useless map. He couldn’t imagine who would be coming to Camp Dragonhead that would put everyone into a fit this time of day. He hadn’t received any word from his father or his brothers that they were coming, but Artoirel often liked to drop by unannounced. Any distraction was welcome so long as it kept him from pulling his own hair out. 

He hadn’t been expecting, however, Carine Monteil, to walk through his front door.

She was the most beautiful and graceful creature he had laid eyes upon, a shining beacon as she strolled across the floor. Her hair, the color of moonlight on fresh fallen snow was pulled into a harsh braid, accenting the pointed features of her face. A tuft of her bangs obscured one violet eye, though the other seemed to smile as their gazes met from across the room. That didn’t distract him from the slight upturn of her nose, or the lush, full bottom lip now curling into a delicious smirk that he longed to taste.

Haurchefant hadn’t gone a day since she had left without thinking about her. The sound of her mournful voice still seemed to echo the walls from that first night he had heard her sing, the teasing laughter seemed to come from the study where she and Alphinaud had spent countless bells trying to piece together Ishgardian customs. His halls were tainted with her essence, as was the beating of his heart, and yet he never felt more alive than when in her presence. 

Francel had considered it puppy love. Haurchefant preferred admiration. 

“Oh, if it isn’t Carine! Have you come to show me the development of your sword arm?” he rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.

This seemed to please and embarrass her in the same breath, for her cheeks turned the loveliest shade of pink and she averted her eyes. “You never change, do you Haurchefant?”

“‘Twould be a tragedy if I did, would it not?” He reached out and took her hand, placing a gentle kiss upon her chilled knuckles. “My dear! You are utterly freezing! Come, warm yourself by my fire.”

Naturally their fingers intertwined as she followed him to the grand fireplace. To his great surprise, she didn’t immediately release his hand in favor of rubbing hers near the flames. His heart fluttered at the realization, his stomach knotting with the feelings he tried so hard to suppress when in her presence. Did she realize that she held his hand openly to where everyone could see? Did she care? 

“It has been too long, Lord Haurchefant,” she whispered to him, amethyst gems peeking from under a fan of dark lashes. “And apologies for not preparing you for my arrival. This decision was made...last minute.”

There was a fault to her voice, one he hadn’t yet heard, and it pierced him through the heart. Something was wrong, he could feel it now, see it even as he looked closely upon her. She was worn, tired, different. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was about her, but he could sense the wrongness she felt as she sat there beside him. 

“My friend, is something amiss?” 

He knew the answer before she gave it He had learned she wasn’t the most forthcoming person with personal information from her last visit, but he had hoped. Alas, it seemed the woman didn’t trust him yet with such things as she shook her head fervently. “Why would you think something is amiss?”

There was a bite to her words, a sharpness that cut him like a well sharpened blade. She had answered too quickly, her voice wavering with an uncertainty that made him want to pry further. Alas, that would do not but earn her ire and possibly chase her away, and having her leave his side again wasn’t his wish. 

“No announcement of your arrival, no word from Minfilia of your coming, and you mentioned this was last minute. I am surprised to see you is all I meant,” he smiled warmly down at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. It wasn’t a lie, he was genuinely curious as to what had brought her here and why when he hadn’t heard from her in weeks, but his chief concern was to keep her amenable. 

Her stiffened form relaxed, but only just as she considered him. “Ah, right, sorry about that,” she mumbled, pulling her hand from his. He felt the void that had been left in its place, a hollowness that echoed at his core, but he pressed her no further. “And no, nothing is amiss. If anything, all is well enough for the Warrior of Light to have a small vacation awarded her for all her efforts of late.”

Again, he could sense the double edge that she wielded her words, though their purpose was not to wound him. She was simply being cautious, but for what, he didn’t know. What Haurchefant  _ did _ know, however, was that he was overjoyed that she would choose to come here of all the places in the world she could visit. “‘Tis an honor you thought to vacation here, though I can hardly see the appeal.”

“Honestly? Neither can I,” she smiled tentatively and then added, “Except for you.”

Haurchefant would have sworn his heart had stopped in his chest and crawled up his throat, determined to leap to the heavens from his mouth. It was equal parts exciting as sickening, not because she thought him that dear, but because he was so overwhelmed with emotion from her little addition. He wanted to pull her to him, crush her lithe body to his and never let go. His fingers wanted to undo her braid and thread through the silky waves of her hair as he confessed that he felt much the same. Her words burned him from the inside out, destroying all rational thought and turning it to ash. 

By the Fury, he  _ wanted  _ her. 

And damn it all, she blushed the moment she realized what she had just said, what had been implied. Yet she never took back the words, never once attempted to retract or correct herself by what she meant. She left the implication hanging between them, neither wishing to make another move in fear of upsetting whatever was happening in this very moment. 

But it was she that pulled away first, leaving him to realize just how close their faces were getting. “I hate to arrive so abruptly only to ask to retire for the afternoon in my room, but it has been a long few days and I am weary after traveling the aethyrical sea,” she cleared her throat and stood to put some distance between them.

“My bed is plenty warm and the fire should still be going,” Haurchefant offered without thinking. 

Carine surprised him yet again with a melodic laugh that sent a shock straight through him. “I am to guess you wish to join me then, Lord Haurchefant?”

Now she was being coy, fluttering her lashes at him flirtatiously while smirking over her shoulder. Of course he wanted to join her. He wanted to pull her in close and lay claim to those devious lips that now tempted him. Hells to propriety and all Ishgardian customs it might break to press her against the wall and worship her, not as the Warrior of Light, but as a woman was meant to be worshipped. 

“Only if that be your wish, my dear. You would not find any objection from me,” he winked, glad to see her innocent nature remained as the blush spread across her cheeks once more. 

“I fear there would be no sleeping should you join me, so I must decline. I am sure you understand.” By the Fury, she was  _ breathless. _ He wondered what was on her mind, what things she had conjured there to grant him such a reaction. “And I wouldn’t want to impose upon your quarters. I would be just as comfortable in mine own.”

“Alas, my dear, I was ill-prepared for your arrival. It will take some time to have wood brought to your chambers and more time to provide sufficient heat. I shall make sure no one disturbs you during your rest, you have my word.” With that, he bowed, taking her hand again with a kiss. “Make yourself at home. I’ll send hot cocoa right away.”

Carine smiled warmly, the teasing now gone as she thanked him. He called over one of the servants, sending them along to prepare his room to welcome her and to start preparing the adjacent chamber for the duration of her stay. As much as he hated watching her depart from him, he couldn’t help but admire the sway in her hips as she did so. 

He ignored the few Coerthans that had paused in their duties to look between them in shock and contempt as he returned to his seat at the war table. It mattered not what they thought of him openly showing affection to the woman he found present in his every waking moment and the one that visited him in feverish dreams.

It mattered not one little bit.

 

***

 

Carine slept well, better than she had in weeks. She considered it was partly due to being so exhausted from worrying about what had happened and partly due from the haunting dreams no longer urging her to Silvertear Lake. It had also crossed her mind that the warm enveloping scent of Haurchefant Greystone had embraced her throughout the afternoon as she succumbed to unconscious might have been partially to blame as well.

As he had promised, no one had disturbed her while she rested, which included him. She concluded, however, that someone must have come in to tend the fireplace, but she had been too far gone to hear or sense them. After she had drank the warm hot cocoa he no doubt prepared for her himself, she had buried herself in the warm downey blankets that adorned his bed and promptly drifted off. No dreams, no nightmares, nothing but blissful sleep until she had woken. 

It was impossible to tell the time, given that night had fallen over Coerthas. Dark skies hung outside her window, the stars and moon obscured by the perpetual clouds that always seemed to hang heavy with snow. There also seemed to be no clock within Haurchefant’s personal quarters. Only oil paintings of far off places decorated his walls like windows into other worlds he longed to visit. 

Her gaze fell upon the one that hung directly over his headboard. She had missed it upon entering, her sleep addled mind more eager for rest than exploration. It depicted a clear blue ocean and brightly colored reefs dotted with small sandbars as far as the eye could see. A tiny ship, decorated with the unmistakable red and black of the Maelstrom seemed to float in the distance while a red and white umbrella provided shade over a welcoming chair in the white sand.

Fingers reached for the canvas, tracing over the raised whitecaps and ripples in the cerulean of the ocean, a smile on her face as she recognized it as Costa del Sol. How long had it been for him since he traveled beyond Coerthan borders for adventures and vacations for himself? Mayhap longer than she, if she were one to take a guess. Briefly she wondered if it would be possible to steal him away for a few days, rent one of the bungalows that hung over the crystal clear water, and share her vacation with him. 

That thought was dashed away as quickly as it had formed - banished from her mind. Carine hardly knew the man and yet she fantasized about sharing a cozy, intimate bungalow with him as though she had every right. And it was most certainly going to give Lord Haurchefant the wrong impression if she invited him on such a getaway. As fond as she was of the lord, she didn’t wish to risk his reputable reputation amongst his kith and kin because she implied there was more going on between them. Even if she were to fancy the thought, nothing could happen between them unless…

The Elezen pulled her hand back as though the painting had stung her, and brought her fingers to her lips. If she wasn’t truly a Warrior of Light anymore thanks to what Midgardsormr had done, did that mean that her primary role with the Scions was done? Could she step down and allow someone else to take the burden she had been carrying since that fateful day in the Bowl of Embers? The thought was almost purifying, a relief when she allowed it to settle over her and give it room to grow. She didn’t have to stop helping them, she still had the Echo after all which made her a force on the battlefield, but this way she could indulge in selfish pursuits. 

She could find some variance of normal. 

If she could forgive herself for being a failure, that is. 

The weight of her loss threatened to crush her. It was suffocating, reliving the memory of the dragon as he pierced her soul with his magic. He stole the Blessing, removed it so far from her being she couldn’t feel it. There was the void, the dark hole left where she knew it should be, but there was no roaring river of light, no extra magic to call upon or wield. 

With a sigh, Carine chose to dress herself in her warmest clothes and see what she could find in way of food and drink. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a good, hearty meal, and her stomach’s rumbling reminded her every few minutes of that as she dressed. 

It must have been fairly early in the evening as there was a bustle of activity on the main floor of the keep. Everywhere she looked Elezen were milling about, speaking amongst each other about whatever business they had. Carine looked for Haurchefant in the sea of pointed faces, but it seemed he was not among them. A disappointment to be sure, as she had every intention of inviting him out to dinner and drinks for a night of catching up. 

She felt in no mood to eat within the keep, seeing as the moment she descended the stairs all eyes had fallen upon her. Conversations dulled to hushed whispers, no doubt rumor already spreading about what she and their lord shared. If the small snippets of exchange she was hearing was any indication, they all thought the pair of them were too close.

And not a one of them knew how to feel about it. 

Instead she made sure her coin purse was firmly attached to her belt and made her way out into the freezing cold of the outdoors. At least the walls surrounding the hold kept the worst of the wind from whipping at her cloak as she made her way to the nearby tavern where she and Haurchefant had gone out what seemed like an eternity ago.

She entered, pausing for a breath to gather her surroundings and find a nice, quiet corner in which she could peacefully drown her sorrows. It was loud, the clamouring of steins and glasses and jovial laughter filling the air. There were enough people huddled within the building that one more went unnoticed and for that she was thankful as she placed herself at the bar and ordered a refined glass of wine. If anyone recognized who she was, they said nothing as they continued on with their late night conversations and drunken shenanigans, allowing her to drink from her glass without disturbance. 

Flames cackled in the fireplace, the heat making the air heavy with the host of bodies within. Carine welcomed the warmth, glad to feel her fingers and toes thawing from her brief walk outside. She sipped on her drink, humming idly to herself as she licked the last traces of it from her lips. Dry and crisp like the winter’s air yet it filled her with a welcome warmth as it settled on her stomach. Before long her glass was empty and the bartender was refilling it. 

Each drink offered her seemed a better idea. With every sip, every taste, she felt the brooding sense of failure drift further from her grasp. The jokes around her grew funnier, the atmosphere more pleasant. Hells, she didn’t know how many drinks in she was when the harsh bite of winter wind no longer fazed her as the doors to the tavern opened and welcomed new customers. She felt alive and yet she was just another face in the crowd of people that didn’t see her for who she was. 

She was a ship lost at sea and she didn’t bloody care.

“Well, well, who would have thought I would find you here,” the smooth, familiar voice of Haurchefant pierced through the foggy haze now clouding her mind and judgement. She turned and waited for the world to catch up, beaming at the man with a smile that spread from ear to ear. 

“Haurchefant! You found me! Where have you been?” Carine recoiled and the shrill voice, wondering who else in this crowded place would steal the words from her very lips and then giggled madly once she realized it was her wn. 

He looked at her with mild amusement tinged with concern. It occurred to her that he had never seen her tipsy before. Hells, had anyone? When was the last time she fancied a drink? Wait-where did her glass go? “Are you looking for this?” Haurchefant asked, holding up the glass of wine that she had been sipping on. 

Carine nodded over eager, and stopped suddenly as the effort made her dizzy. “Yes, might I have it back please?”

The lord looked torn between doing as she wished and doing the right thing. Well, fuck doing the right thing. That meant she would have to wallow in her self pity and accept she brought this fate upon herself. If the world was brought low on the morrow, that would be her fault and her fault alone. She didn’t want to - no - she  _ couldn’t _ deal with that harsh reality right now, and he needed to know that. Just one night of forgetting she was a failure, one night of lifting the burdens of her mistakes from her shoulders.

One night to just  _ be. _

“If I give this to you, will you swear it will be your last?” he asked in earnest. “And will you eat dinner with me?”

“Oh, Haurchefant, is this you asking me on another date?” she giggled, placing her hand on his arm with reckless abandon. To hells with the gossipmongers and their beloved propriety. What did they care if the Warrior of Light was friendly with their lord?

“I have not an answer to that as I have no wish to take advantage of your current state,” he replied, though it was painfully obvious he wished he could. Carine could see that clearly, and it warmed her to her core. 

“Then let me order our food and allow us to retire to a more private table,” she offered. Hesitantly he returned her smile, not that she had a care in the world as she ordered whatever tickled her fancy from the menu.

 

Carine was a mess. She looked the part of a well put together adventurer, so Haurchefant knew she had come here before getting drunk. Why she chose to, however, was a mystery. He was sure that something was amiss within her as he could still see it lingering behind those glittering gems of eyes even in her current state. Thankfully she was in a cheerful mood, allowing herself to be talked into eating which would hopefully sober her up. 

He watched her devour the food on her plate and even reach over to pick at the things she liked most from his own. He was glad to do it, obviously the woman was ravenous, but he worried what she might think of those now staring at the pair of them. He had already been spending the greater part of the day trying to put stirring rumors to rest on the state of their relationship thanks to his ill-thought offer of his room. It mattered not that he hadn’t once gone to visit her within his private chambers, the gossip still spread like wildfire. 

“How do you feel, my friend?” he asked, watching her wipe the juices from the roasted Dodo meat from her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Sheepishly she looked down at her plate and shook her head. “Stuffed and rather embarrassed of my behavior,” she admitted, daring not to look in his eyes. “Apologies that you had to see me like that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he smiled in reassurance. “I cannot begin to count the number of times I have drank myself to oblivion with friends in the past.”

One silver brow hiked at the sentiment and a lip curled in the slightest of smiles. “Somehow that does not surprise me.”

As poor an idea it was, Haurchefant could not help but to worry over the state of his friend. There was something troubling her, eating away at her very being, and he did not long to see what the beast inside might do should it continue its current course. “Question…” he began, their game gathering her attention. He could see the fear and hesitation, the reluctance to play as she shrank back into the booth at which they say, but it did not sway in his decision. “What brought you here, Carine? Truly?”

The gears turned in her mind, the excuses forming only to be dashed away with the option of just telling him she wished to pass. He would not push her, would not pry any more than she would allow, but if there was something he could do,  _ anything _ he could do, he wanted to. 

“Might we go for a walk? Or at least somewhere more private?” Her voice was soft, nervous, timid. Nothing he ever associated with the Warrior of Light which only ascertained his assumption that something was going on within her. 

“I fear the situation outside our walls is not as safe as it was the night we took our moonlit stroll.” And it had. The heretics grew more bold with each passing day. There hadn’t been much damage yet done to Camp Dragonhead, but it was only a matter of time before they attacked him head on. “And there are likely not many places we could discuss without the wandering eyes and ears of the lords and ladies that frequent the camp.”

Carine furrowed her brow in deep thought, fingers twisting together in that way they did when she was nervous or uneasy. Haurchefant longed for nothing more than to reach across the table and take her hands into his own and assure her that whatever it was she feared, he would help her bear it if he had to. 

“What about your room?”

His hand, poised to reach for hers, paused midway across the table. Had she really just offered the intimacy of his own quarters for private discussion? If she knew the implications others would assume should they bear witness to them disappearing together, Carine didn’t show it as she looked upon him with earnest. His window of learning her turmoil was fast closing. Besides, when was the last time he cared what others thought of him?

Haurchefant nodded, holding out his hand as an anchor for her to grasp to keep from drifting further into despair. Gladly she took it, intertwining their fingers as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He marveled at how perfectly her hands fit against his, even with the thick gloves that separated their skin. Did she feel the same? 

As if she read his thoughts, Carine pressed herself into his side almost in show of how perfectly they paired together. She was just short enough to lean her head onto his shoulder, her own shoulder fitting just below his so that if he wanted, he could drape his arm across her. The floral mix of lavender and wildflower wafted up, tingling his nose and setting his body aflame. 

Flirtatious though he may be, Haurchefant suddenly found himself at a loss. It was much easier to flirt with abandon knowing that nothing would come of his efforts. But here in this moment with her body pressed close to his side to share in his warmth, he wasn’t so sure that lines weren’t blurring. She had offered to speak with him in his private quarters. She had been the one to initiate the closeness they now shared. Yet here he was like a damn innocent lad of twelve summers that knew not what the body of a woman felt like. 

Fury, what was she doing to him?

They ignored the stares from the lords and ladies milling about the main floor of the keep. Haurchefant barely noticed them anyway as Carine’s hand gripped his, sending his heart into a maddening race that left him breathless by the time they reached the top of the stairs. If she were nervous, she never showed it as she opened the wooden door to his room without hesitation. It was almost as if she were retreating to a safe place, a place where she could hide. 

But if he thought that she would relax upon entering the room, he was wrong. Instead the Warrior of Light paced back and forth in front of the fireplace as she unclasped her cloak and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Her mind was filled with whatever demons she battled, hands raking through silver hair as she struggled to decide if she would tell him her woes. 

“Carine, if this troubles you so, we can speak of other things…” he offered, wishing only to ease the tension from her shoulders and smooth the worry lines from her brow. 

She paused in her pacing, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. “I-I need to resume my training with you at once. I admit that I...slacked...in my time away,” she finally said, turning on with with a feverish look in her eyes. 

That clearly wasn’t the worry that cost her the enjoyment she should have been having, but he wouldn’t rush or push her into anything she wasn’t yet ready for. “We can start in the morning. Same schedule as we practiced before.”

She nodded, seemingly pleased, but the tension was still there coiled tight and ready to unleash its energy. “Tell me, Haurchefant...when you look at me, what do you see?”

_ Radiance, beauty, hope, light… _ the words went on and on. “I know not what you mean?” he stuttered, quickly looking away as he throbbed with the other illicit thoughts that danced in his head. 

“What am I to you?”

That question was hardly clearer, but it gave him a moment to pause. She asked it in a way that made it the most important question ever asked of him. It was as if her sanity relied fully on his thoughts on her, a thought that brought him no great comfort. 

“You are Carine Monteil,” he spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words so that she wouldn’t think less of him. “You are a survivor of the unimaginable, the liberator of those who cannot fight, but most of all, you are a dear friend to me...and I am worried for you.”

 

At his words, Carine tried to swallow back the tears that were now freely flowing down her cheeks.  _ He didn’t say savior...he didn’t say Warrior of Light… _ she chanted over and over as she rushed to him, burying her face into his chest and breathing in his masculine scent. He said nothing, wrapping his arms around her in a tight and reassuring embrace. 

She had no idea how badly she had needed physical contact, just someone to hold her and keep her from falling apart into a thousand pieces with no hope of being put back together. In his arms she felt  _ cherished _ and wanted. She was an equal to him, not some icon placed upon an impossibly tall mantle.

He was dear to her as well. 

“You could not have known how badly I needed to hear you say that,” she mumbled into his chest, holding tighter. “Or how much it means to me you were honest.”

He enveloped her, pressing his head down against her own and just held her with his hands rubbing soothing lines down her back. He worried for her, genuinely worried. The only other person she ever felt cared for her state of being was her mother. The Scions certainly didn’t, or if they did they hid it well enough she couldn’t tell. Ever since coming to Coerthas this time, no one bothered to check and see if she had even made it safely. 

None of that mattered. Only Haurchefant. 

And that was when something changed. The smallest shift between them that took their friendly embrace and turned it into something deeper. The familiar tingling of her racing heart reminded her of the day she had been laid flat on her back in the snow, his body hovering over hers as he took the force of the snowball attack from the children. He must have felt it as well for his body tensed in time with hers, pulling ever so slightly away. 

Glacial blue eyes crashed with hers as she looked up. She became acutely aware of how alone they were and  _ where _ they were, but that seemed to no longer matter as she found herself swept away in the sea of his gaze. He looked upon her now like a man staring at the beauty of a full moon, equal parts awed and wonderous. One hand fell to her waist, pulling her ever closer while the other caressed her cheek. 

“I meant every word. You are so very dear to me.” His words were but a whisper, just ilms from her lips. And Twelve knew all it would take was a tilt of her head and fulfill their desire to one another. 

For Carine did desire him. He was as tall as he was kind, as handsome as he was an unrepentant flirt. The man cared for his people, enough so to willingly take on the mantle of knight to defend them. He knew those within his settlement by name, knew their troubles and woes. If she had to guess, he worked tirelessly to ensure their needs were met before his own. Even today he had offered her his personal quarters without a second thought and would gladly do so again if she asked it of him. 

Tentatively, her fingers reached up to smooth the silvery-blue hair out of his eyes. A moment of courage, the slightest of tiptoes, and his lips would be her prize. Would he be gentle and savor her? Or would passion take over in a heated kiss that would inevitably turn into more? 

He pressed a gentle, lingering kiss upon her brow, earning a sigh as she closed her eyes to relish the feel of being cherished. Cautiously his lips trailed down the side of her face, his hands moving to the swell of her hip. Her breath caught at the sensation as his aquiline nose brushed against the soft skin just below her ear, inhaling her scent. 

Heart pulsing with each gentle brush, it was all Carine could do to stand there and let him explore the edges of her face. If he wished to take his time, she would not hurry him, not when all she wanted was to lose herself to something else, something better than wine. 

But when his fingers caught on the chain that held her wedding band that hung from her neck, she froze. Haurchefant’s lips were but a breath from her own when he noticed the change, but he hesitated to move away.

“Is aught amiss?” he asked, voice breathy with desire. 

Try as she might to shake the feelings now stirring within her, she couldn’t suppress them, not when the weight of her failures came crashing down on her wave upon wave. She shoved him away, eyes frantically searching for something to eliminate the contents of her stomach into. Settling for an empty pot, she expelled everything within her. The rich dinner, the however many glasses of wine, her bloody pride...all of it. She was dimly aware of the hands pulling back her braided hair and rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders and she continued to dry heave, but there was nothing left to choke up. 

She was empty, void, invalid. Carine no more deserved the caring man that now called for his servants to bring her cool water than she deserved all the praise and recognition in this world. She was a liar, a fraud, a woman with a sharp tongue and not a damn thing to show for it. 

Haurchefant deserved better than her. 

Carine leaned up against the chilled wall, grateful that she had managed to locate herself away from the heat of the fire. Attentive as he seemed to be, Haurchefant even opened the window above her, sacrificing his warmth for her comfort. 

She wasn’t worthy of his goodness.

How long she sat there, she didn’t know. The life had been drained out of her, the moment to steal an undeserved kiss from the one man in her life that had shown generosity without expecting anything of her long gone. A glass pressed against her heated face, cool and welcoming. Her hands lifted heavily, bringing it to her lips and finishing it off with a long draught. 

“Easy now, you don’t wish to drink too much lest you get sick again,” he warned, tucking the loose hair behind her ear. “There, feel better now?”

“No. Not at all,” she admitted. She felt worse. If only he would treat her with the same reverence everyone else did, but no. He had to look at her as though she were precious, touch her as though he cherished her, hold her like he loved her. 

Bile rose in her throat at the thought, but Haurchefant was prepared with her bucket, letting her vomit all the water she had just drank with her guilt. “Why are you doing this?” she croaked, tilting her head back against the cool stone when nothing more would come from her. 

“My dear, you had quite a bit to drink, more than I imagined it would seem. If I can help, I would gladly do so,” he smiled and reached for her hand as it had become their custom. 

But she recoiled from the touch as if he burned her skin. The light in his eyes seemed to fade, a new worry taking its place and making her feel all the worse for it. “You wouldn’t do that. Not if you knew the real me.”

Her statement confused him, rendering him unable to speak for several moments as he tried to process what she meant. “Then show me, Carine, for I would love to know the woman behind the title.”

Now it was anger. Anger at him for being so bloody good and kind and honest. Anger at her for being none of those things. “If I told you, you would send me away. I’m not the hero you think I am.”

He laughed at her, eyes shining as if her plight meant nothing. He thought this was in jest, some self-depreciation because she had a little too much to drink. “There is nothing you could say that would sway the way I feel about you. But if you must try, then do so. If only so I could dash away such thoughts and feelings.”

Without hesitation, Carine pulled the offending necklace hiding within her clothes for his eyes to see. “Do you know what this is?” she asked. He shook his head, taking the ring dangling from the chain into his palm and turning it over as he examined it. “‘Tis my wedding ring. The very same one that Nero bestowed upon me the night I became his bride.”

Realization dawned on the lord, and he let the metal band fall from his fingers. “You still carry it?”

“Yes, but not because I want to. You want to know the real reason I had to come here with Alphinaud other than dazzle you with my abilities? It was because I lied about killing him. I allowed everyone to believe that I had destroyed every last one of Gaius’ minions, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill the one person I should have wanted to kill most of all. 

“To make matters worse, he saved my life and Thancred’s. We surely would have been dead had I not spared him and in turn he felt himself in debt to me. But the bloody bastard showed back up a few months ago still working for Garlemald. In exchange for sensitive information regarding the Empire, he bid me to wear this ring because I now owe him a favor,” she explained, tucking it back within her shirt.

“That hardly makes you undesirable, Carine. You have compassion, more so than anyone else I know. ‘Tis comforting to know you do not kill recklessly and without remorse,” Haurchefant replied. 

She scoffed, “Is that so? How would you feel about making love to a woman that willingly and happily consummated her marriage to a Garlean? The very same Garlean that was the mastermind behind rebuilding Ultima?”

This time the Elezen lord recoiled as he ought to have from the beginning. It was good that he was finally realizing she was no angel, no perfect being without her faults. She had nearly loved a dangerous engineer who showed no remorse for the loss of life through the inventions he created. 

But Haurchefant shook his head, displeased with her summary. “You cared for him, that much is apparent, but did you love him? Did you say your vows to him in the sight of the Twelve? Was your union blessed?” he asked. “I do not believe it. A marriage on paper is simply one required by law, but one in the eyes of the Twelve is far more holy and intimate and true. You know this.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I owe him a favor,  _ any _ favor he might ask. Would you wish to be tied down to that?”

“If it meant being tied to you, then gladly.” His eyes did not betray the truth to his words, and it cut her deeper than any sword could. 

“And what if I told you that I killed innocents not that long ago? People driven to desperation that they would summon a Primal in the streets of Ul’dah?” she added, words biting, the wounds still fresh with the memory. 

Again, he did not falter as he took her hands in his own. “I heard of what happened. You were not at fault. Desperation does not mean they were within their right to cause chaos and destruction. Their actions had consequence.”

“Oh yeah? Well what if I told you I am no longer a Warrior of Light?” the words slipped from her trembling lips as emotion overcame reason. Damn him! Damn him for having an answer to her every problem. Damn him for comforting her. Damn him for  _ wanting _ her as badly as she wanted him. 

Haurchefant froze, eyes widening in shock. “I-what do you mean? Minfilia mentioned nothing-”

“Because neither she or the others yet know,” Carine finished, hiding her face in her hands and weeping. “T-they cannot know. Not until I-I know what to to. Haurchefant...I-I’m fucking  _ scared.” _

Wordlessly he pulled her close, allowing her to claim his shoulder and cry. The more she tried to stop, the worse it got. The more he comforted her and told her it would be okay, the more inconsolable she became. Her body shook with tremors, her eyes welled with tears, and her face became blotchy as her lips tingled. Haurchefant never once let her go, though she was sure he knew nothing more in how to handle this than she did. 

“All is well, my friend. All is well,” he cooed, rocking her against him and kissing the top of her head. “Talk when you are ready. I shall lend you mine ear.”

For several minutes, perhaps even bells, they sat there in silence. Her body screamed from the position she was in, shoulders hunched and back crooked as she succumbed to his embrace, but she didn’t wish to leave. She was safe. Always safe with him. 

“I also came to tell you that Midgardsormr has awoken,” she whispered, the biggest betrayal towards he and his countrymen. “He is the one who stole my blessing as a test.”

He stiffened, the gentle rocking coming to a sudden halt. His hand still rubbed against her arm, but she knew his mind was already making arrangements to send word to Aymeric and the Holy See about what she had just said. “And what did the wyrmking say? That Ishgard would be brought low?”

She shook her head, weariness from her fit now taking over as she yawned wide. “No mention of Ishgard, only that I stunk of haste.”

He chuckled, hugging her closer and planting a chaste kiss upon her head. “If only I were to benefit from your haste.”

His meaning was not lost on her, but her eyelids were too heavy to look upon him. “Mhmm, if only I would benefit from your forwardness,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “You should have kissed me when you had the chance.”

Haurchefant grinned, not that she could see as she rested against him, but she could feel it as he kissed the top of her head again before standing. He collected her into his arms and deposited her gently onto his bed, ignoring her protests as he covered her with his blankets. 

“All good things come to those who are patient,” he whispered into her ear. “Now sleep. I shall be in the next room should you have need of me.”

She wanted to tell him that he was welcome to stay in bed with her, welcome to hold her through the night if that was what he wished.

But Carine was long asleep by the time he left the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while having a few glasses of wine...and edited it with said glasses of wine. Please...ignore my mistakes xD
> 
> And note to self, no more writing with wine. Things get too angsty too fast. This was meant to be sweet with a dash of angst, not the other way around dammit! *shrug* maybe next chapter ^^


	24. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He was exploding, bursting at the seams and yet her hands on his arms were somehow holding him together and keeping him whole._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went with a shorter chapter this time around. No more monsters like before...sober me can't handle them xD

Clashing steel rang out in the air, the shrill song beckoning the eyes of the knights upon the walls. Two tall, lean figures pushed each other back, heels digging into the muck to keep their balance as they raised their shields in preparation for another attack. 

Carine took the offensive, charging forward with her attack for his strong side. Her practice blade swung high in the air, arcing so Haurchefant could see where it would land. Compensating for the force of the blow, he dug his heel hard and raised his shield as he pulled up his blade to catch the opening she created. She twirled, spinning gracefully so his sword missed her, and used the momentum of her attack to swing her weapon towards the opening on his weak side. 

In a moment of realization, the lord attempted to turn and take the full force with his shield, but instead he used his sword arm to save his side the bruise. Air hissed from his lungs as dull steel struck and rattled his bones. The sword dropped useless to the ground, hand numb and tingling, but she was not yet finished. Long legs swept behind his knees upsetting his center of balance and sending him sprawling to the ground. 

Blurry eyes looked up at the clear blue sky, head spinning from the impact with the frozen ground when a leather boot pressed firmly on his chest. The cold tip of steel pressed just under his jaw, tilting his head further up so that he could get a good look at the woman that had bested him in combat. 

“Do you yield, Lord Haurchefant?” Full lips twisted into a playful smirk, lilac eyes glinting beneath a fan of lashes doomed to make his heart race. 

“Aye, I yield,” he sighed, dropping his arms in resignation. He wouldn’t let her know just how hard she had hit him, the woman likely didn’t know her own strength, but he knew he would be feeling this practice fight for days. He closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to prepare to get back to his feet when Carine laughed. 

Her laugh was like a waterfall, roaring and crashing over him. It sent his heart tumbling and twirling with no choice but to succumb to the sound. It was as beautiful as it was powerful, captivating him as he opened his eyes to see the sweet serenity upon her face. She was beautiful, ethereal, a goddess as her eyes found his, twinkling with her amusement as she extended her hand to help him up. “What is it?”

“Y-your hair! Oh gods! I-I can’t!” she sputtered, eyes watering as she hunched over, grasping at her stomach. “Twelve be good, your  _ hair!” _

This was the Carine he had been hoping to find walking through his doors the other day. This vibrant, wondrous being with life and light floating about her like a halo. The other woman? She had been but a shadow, a poor construct that had only gone through the motions in keeping up the charade. 

Thank the Fury she had been vanquished.

He reached up and noticed that at some point during their practice, the woman had knocked his helmet clean off his head, but that did little to explain her enthusiastic laughter that now filled the courtyard. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Grinning like a madwoman, Carine attempted to smooth off the glinting armor plate that covered her chest. Without warning, she took his head and lowered it to get a better look at himself. While it wasn’t the prettiest of reflections, it had given him enough of an idea to spread a grin on his own face from ear to pointed ear. 

Half of his hair was sticking straight up, plastered that way thanks to the mix of mud and muck he had landed in just moments before. The other half was smooth and flat, curving with the shape of his head and curling out at the ends thanks to the bottom of the helmet he had been wearing.

“I take it you are feeling better?” he grinned, trying to smooth down the unruly strands that resisted every attempt. By the Fury, it was as if this mud were made of glue. 

“Gods! I haven’t laughed like that in  _ ages!” _ Carine let out a deep breath. “I would apologize that it was at your expense, but I greatly needed that.”

His heart fluttered and he bowed low. “Glad to be of service, my lady.”

Following the night of her drunken confessions, Haurchefant had made it his goal to try and bring smiles and laughter back into the woman he had come to care for. Though he had prayed every night to the Twelve that she would not forget him and return, even if only for a brief visit, he had not anticipated or expected the shell of a woman that had walked through his doors. Oh, she had put up a charade, all polite smiles and gentle hands, but she had been an empty vessel in place of the vibrant woman that stood before him now. 

He supposed losing the Blessing of Light was to blame. Even he now grew fearful of what might become of her, since she had confessed to telling no one else but him. Warming as it was to know she trusted him, Haurchefant knew this put her at a greater risk. Carine wasn’t a woman to stand down when there were innocents that could be hurt, that much was clear from what he had learned of Ul’dah. If another eikon were to be given life? He dared not think of it. 

“Hey? You in there?” she asked, tapping a finger against his temple. He blinked, startled by the feeling and found her face just ilms from his own. “Ah! There you are. Care to tell me where that mind of yours wandered off to?”

She was flirting, another great sign that she was on the path to mending. Mayhap unburdening herself had helped more than she thought it would, and for that he was grateful. “Only of you, my dear. Always of you.”

Clearly she hadn’t been expecting such a forward answer, for her cheeks immediately flamed and her ears burned red. “I, ah...well then…” she stuttered, pink tongue darting over her lips as she searched for the words to say. “So...when will my next lesson be?”

“Alas, my friend, I fear there is no more than I can teach you.”

“Ha! Somehow I doubt that. I hadn’t trained since I left as there was no time. I couldn’t have gotten better without the practice,” Carine giggled. The sound was smooth, soft, like a stream flowing merrily through the wood. How he wished he could bottle the sound and hold it dear for the days the sun hid behind ceaseless clouds. 

“Just because you have learned all I can teach you does not mean you should slack in practicing, Carine,” he waggled a brow. “There is just nothing else I can teach. Already you are malms better than you were when we started, and I have little doubt that if you continue on this path, you shall be malms better than you are now. Mayhap even better than I could aspire to be.”

She nodded silently. Though their faces had drifted further apart, their bodies remained close enough he could still catch the slightest traces of lavender in the breeze. Loose strands of silver hair streaked across her face and absentmindedly he tucked them behind her ear. Carine leaned in, pressing her cheek into his palm. How he longed to feel her warmth, the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingers as his thumb stroked her. He was dimly reminded of their agreement and the unusual form of payment she had offered in exchange for her services. Just the thought that she would now finally kiss him had his palms sweating and heart fluttering. 

Their eyes met at the same moment and the breath stole from his very lungs. Her eyes pierced his soul, dragging it down into their amethyst depths with no hope of escape. He was tumbling, free falling, heart in his throat and stomach in his chest sending tickles and thrills as he stared back at her. He was exploding, bursting at the seams and yet her hands on his arms were somehow holding him together and keeping him whole. Time ceased, the world stopped and nothing else existed in this moment but the two of them. She felt it too, she  _ had _ to, because she looked just as lost and found staring back at him as he felt. 

“‘Tis quite cold out here,” Haurchefant whispered, though he was sure neither of them were feeling the skin prickling chill of the air. “‘Tis much warmer in my private chambers if you’ve a mind…”

“That would be wonderful! I’m not very good with the cold, as I am sure you well remember.” Alphinaud’s voice replied pleasantly from directly beside them. At once both Haurchefant and Carine jumped apart, startled at the unexpected visit from the young Elezen.

“Well, well, Master Alphinaud. I had not been expecting you…” Haurchefant replied stiffly, shooting a glare at Carine as the boy took his apparently customary place between them. She looked as shocked as he, eyes wide and cheeks aflame with embarrassment. She knew nothing more than he. “To what do I owe this...pleasure?”

He was vaguely aware of a stifled giggle coming from the woman, though his body seemed to throb at the sound. Alphinaud, completely oblivious to what he had just interrupted, however, continued on as merrily as he had before. “I wish to thank you again for your hospitality you extended some time ago. The Scions are ever in your debt, however, I fear I must steal away the Warrior of Light from her vacation at once.”

“What?” He could hear the disappointment and fear intermingling in the one syllable. His heart lurched, dread filling his gut as he looked to find the slightest trace of terror in her eyes. She was scared and all he wanted was to pull her close and protect her from whatever was threatening the realm this time. Would that he could without alarming the lad before them.

Alphinaud ignored her question, turning instead to him with a gentle, diplomatic smile. “If I might take you up on that kind offer of a little warmth, I would be most pleased to explain. Time is of the essence, I fear, so we shall not burden you ere long.”

As much as he should have been humored by the lad’s naivety, Haurchefant couldn’t bring himself to smirk as he extended his arm to let him take the lead. Carine fell in step beside him, “I suppose this means your payment is being put on hold?” To his great disappointment, she sounded almost relieved. 

The realization wounded him like a serrated spear through the heart.

 

For the first time in Carine’s life, she wanted to kiss Alphinaud. It wasn’t because she was particularly fond of the boy, but because he had impeccable timing. Had he waited just a few minutes more, she would have given in and done something that would have haunted her the rest of her days. 

As much as she had come to care for Haurchefant, as much as her heart demanded that she take a chance and let go of her twisted past, the last thing she wanted was him to share the burden of all her baggage. He had enough on his plate with being both a bastard son of House Fortemps and a knight fighting against their dragon foes. What would the people then think of him when they learned he had come to care for a woman that had been married to a Garlean? If she knew people, and she was sure she did, then as much as they praised her name for being the Warrior of Light they whispered in dark corners about her former marriage. 

Carine wouldn’t allow Haurchefant to suffer for her sake. Already she had done enough by confessing everything to him that no one else knew, but that was because he was her dearest friend and someone she knew she could trust. Love had nothing to do with that.

Or at least that is what she would keep telling herself. 

Meanwhile, Alphinaud made himself right at home in Haurchefant’s private chambers like the naive little brat he was. A great wonder anyone trusted him with an entire company of men and women, putting him at the table as an equal amongst leaders that had actually fought in real battles, not the ones on a chess board. Somehow he fancied himself one of them and for reasons Carine couldn’t comprehend, Minfilia and the other Scions  _ allowed _ him too. 

But she wasn’t about to question their reasoning. Why not put a boy of sixteen summers in charge of a Grand Company while subjecting the Warrior of Light that drove out the Garlean invaders to being babysat because she didn’t wish to kill one man?

It was all  _ so _ logical.

“So what is so important that you might drag me away from my much deserved vacation?” Carine asked, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide the fact she was praying to the Twelve it wasn’t another bloody Primal. 

“Aside from the fact that you left without letting us know where you would be traveling to,” he scowled at her. “It would seem the Ivy has escaped her custody and is making her way to Castrum Meridianum.”

That was news she hadn’t been expecting, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Eline had been easy enough to apprehend before, she would be again. “How in Seven Hells did that happen if she were in Raubahn’s custody?”

“There was a commotion or an ambush of sorts, the details yet remain unclear. If we are to capture her though, we must needs leave at once,” Alphinaud replied. 

“And you need me for this reason because?”

“Because whether you like it or not, the Ivy is a threat to the  _ entirety _ of Eorzea, including our Ishgardian friends,” he pointed at her. “If we are to continue making a good impression upon them, we need you to continue putting Eorzea’s well-being first and foremost. While I do hate to take you away from the time promised, I can only offer that you may return once we have apprehended her and extracted all information we seek.”

Angry tears pricked at her eyes as her fists clenched. It was one thing to be reprimanded out of sight from others, but another to be spoken to as a child in the presence of a lord. “Very well then. I suppose we shouldn’t ‘dawdle’,” she replied through gritted teeth. There were times she really disliked Alphinaud, and right now she wanted nothing more than to just smack the pretentious look off his face. 

Oddly enough, Nero wore it  _ much _ better.

“Good. I shall meet with you in Camp Bluefrog post haste,” he smiled and then turned to Haurchefant and bowed. “I trust she has been on her best behavior?”

_ Oh you are just begging for me to kick you, _ she growled. 

“Absolutely. Carine is welcome here anytime,” Haurchefant bowed in turn. Something was off with his words or the formality with which he spoke. It was almost  _ too _ formal and sounded as if the words were being forced from his lips. Had Alphinaud offended him as well? Or was it something she had done? Surely not.

Alphinaud soon left the room, leaving Carine to gather her weapons and things and summon Buck from the stables. To her great surprise, Haurchefant didn’t join her. It wasn’t like him to leave her to her own devices unless she asked for it specifically. Hells, he hadn’t even looked her in the eye as she left his room. And now, as she walked down the steps to mount upon Buck, the eccentric lord was nowhere to be seen. No overzealous farewells, no outrageous flirtations, no comforting hands…

She turned back one last time, searching for her knight…

But he was nowhere to be seen.


	25. Exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Why? I did it for the same reason you let Nero tol Scaeva live,” Eline smiled wickedly, glancing with amusement as all the color drained from Carine’s face. “I did it for love.”_

“Have I told you how much I  _ hate _ Northern Thanalan?” Carine complained as she pulled Buck along through the rugged terrain too dangerous to ride him over. Already she had found several rocks in her boot and been attacked by a nesting basilisk she hadn’t seen. The darkened sky and foreboding weather had done little to lighten her mood whilst following behind the one Scion she wished would have just stayed in Mor Dhona. “Why did she have to escape through bloody Northern Thanalan?”

“You have mentioned it only five times since we left from Camp Bluefrog,” Alphinaud grumbled, his mood soured by her own. “And you well know ‘tis because she aims for Castrum Meridianum.”

Carine mimicked him in a child-like fashion that bordered insult, but the lad couldn’t see with his back to her. It just had to be him. The pretentious little shit that couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her and vice versa just had to come on this mission because none of the other Scions were available. Apparently playing babysitter to the Warrior of Light either earned him a pay raise from the Scions’ coffers, or he felt that it made him more important than he really was. 

Buck caught wind of Ilberd and his men before the others, lifting his seafog blue head and k’wehing enthusiastically at the small group as they came into view. As the ground leveled out, she released his reins and let him trot to them in greeting. The ham knew how to work the Highlander as he nudged him with his large beak for the hidden krakka roots that he knew were on his person somewhere. By the time Carine and Alphinaud reached them, Buck was happily munching on his treat and chirping in content.

“You’re spoiling him,” Carine ‘tsked while shaking her fingers at her friend. “‘Ere long he won’t do anything should I not treat him first.”

Ilberd laughed and patted the Chocobo on his wing affectionately, “Come now, he’s more than earned it, wouldn’t you say? Hauling you and your arsenal of weaponry all the way from Coerthas.”

“Well I’d look a right fool carrying all my daggers and knives and spearheads on my person with a bow and three quivers of arrows strung to my back, now wouldn’t I?” she teased. 

“Ahem!” Alphinaud cleared his throat, interrupting their reunion to garner their attention. Ilberd, remembering he was now in the presence of his commander saluted the boy, followed by the rest of his men. “What news of the Ivy?”

“Right, my thanks for coming,” Ilberd coughed and straightened himself. “I spoke with the soldiers stationed at Camp Bluefrog and they all saw her strolling through not ten minutes before now. She can’t have gone far.”

“Wait, you said she  _ strolled _ through? They just allowed her to pass?” Carine asked, forgetting this was Alphinaud’s place. She was just the brawn, as he so loved to remind her. 

Ilberd nodded, “Aye, ‘tis Raubahn’s doing. Thought it would be best to keep this matter as secret as possible. Bad for morale, he said. Anyroad, not a single Flame thought it strange their marshal would head into the wilds of Northern Thanalan without the aid of other men at her side.”

“At least tell me that there are some men scouting out here now for her? We cannot let her reach Castrum Meridianum, not with what she knows,” Alphinaud asked. 

“Aye, Commander, I sent several scouts upon our arrival. They have been instructed to stop her at all costs,” Ilberd affirmed and then turned to Carine. “Though having your bird might grant us some reprieve. She might be a woman on a mission, but no one can outrun a Chocobo.”

She grinned and then clicked her tongue to call Buck to her side. Filled with his treat, the Chocobo was now more than eager to stretch his legs and find the woman they were meant to apprehend. “Anywhere in particular I should start?” She steadied herself a moment before pushing up off the ground and settling herself in the saddle. 

“According to the soldiers she took the main road, but one of my scouts up ahead says that she must have made a detour somewhere around here,” he showed her a place on the map. “My best guess is she would have taken the easier path with the most places to hide.”

Carine nodded, committing the location to memory. “I think I have a good idea of where to look. If I find her, I’ll let Alphy know right away.”

“And lass?” Ilberd asked, his hands holding Buck back for a moment more. “Be wary. If she went where I think she’s gone, there’s a good chance Garleans will be waiting nearby. Don’t hesitate to ask for aid.”

She gave him a reassuring smile and nodded. When the Highlander had backed far enough away, she dug in her heels and drove Buck into a sprint. Dust and debris kicked out behind them, and Carine couldn’t help but hope that maybe Alphinaud was unfortunate enough to get a small rock to the head in the effort. 

 

Finding Eline Roaille was far more difficult than the Elezen had given herself credit for. It didn’t help that the constant rolling clouds cast unforgiving shadows in every rock surface and behind every plant. Basilisks hissed from their nesting grounds, some daring to strike out at the Warrior of Light as she pulled back on the reins to slow the pace. 

They were getting close to the Castrum now. The looming, foreboding walls glowing with their ceruleum blue struck out in the distance, reminding her of the place she had been forced to call home. A shiver ran up her spine, skin pebbling with the unwelcome memories of her time spent there. There was a reason she hated Northern Thanalan...and it wasn’t just because of rocky terrain and angry, broody, basilisks. 

Carine pulled Buck to a stop just at the peak of a ridge to overlook the castrum and see if there was any movement below. She could barely make out scouts on the walls patrolling the stronghold, no doubt looking out for the woman that was supposed to be their informant. But there was nothing. Nothing but dirt and rocks and dry grass and bloody Garleans. 

“So they sent the Warrior of Light after me.” Eline’s cool voice broke through the silence from behind her. She turned in her saddle, surprised to see the woman dressed in the same formal Immortal Flames armor she had always worn when on duty. Eline looked cool, collected, not at all afraid as she pushed up on her rounded spectacles to get a better look at her. 

Carine’s eyes were then drawn to the long, deadly Garlean made spear in her other hand. “I’m not here to arrest you, if that’s what you are thinking. Merely to ask a few questions, if you’ve a mind,” she replied, swinging her leg over the saddle and dropping to the ground. 

When she looked up, her eyes made contact with the sharp, pointed end of the lance, halting her from making any forward movement. “You may ask, that doesn’t mean I shall answer.”

Carine thought fast, mind racing with what the most important information would be she should glean from the woman. Judging from the spear and just how confident she was, there was no need to ask about whose side she was on. Clearly the Garleans promised her something she couldn’t refuse, what that was, however, didn’t matter. 

“While I cannot understand your desire to join the tin heads, I would ask what role the Ascian played in all of this?” she ventured, holding up her hands in a signal of peace. “What use are you to them?”

A flicker of annoyance passed through the eyes of the other woman and a sneer formed at her lips. “Ascians have but one demand. Chaos. I helped provide that in exchange for my freedom.”

“Freedom from what? Being the second-in-command to the best general in all of Eorzea?” 

Both women turned their heads to the east and found Ilberd and Alphinaud with the other Braves alongside them. The Highlander’s face was twisted with disgust as he crossed his arms over his thick chest and shook his head. “You were given freedom you bloody traitor and you squandered it for what?”

Eline narrowed her eyes and then glared at Carine as though she had lied. “You said you weren’t here to arrest me.”

“Ah yes, I do believe I did,” Carine shrugged. “But I don’t recall saying anything about  _ them.” _

The Elezen growled and swung her lance around to face the Braves bearing down on her. She twirled it in her hands and struck the ground, sending up a beam of light into the darkened sky. One foolish Brave attempted to rush her, charging forth believing he was acting a hero to save them all from whatever signal she had just released only to be struck down before he knew what hit him. Buck squawked, his feathers ruffling in aggitaton as he scraped his claws into the dirt to face the enemy. 

“Stupid fool of a man. All of you,” Eline sneered, daring anyone else to step forward and challenge her directly. “Do you really think you are at the advantage here? This close to their borders?”

As if summoned on cue, familiar humming from magitek machines reverberated through the air as three ships flew from the castrum towards them. Without the Blessing of Light, there was nothing Carine could do to stop the ships from reaching them or dropping three large Vanguards and several soldiers down on their location. 

“Please tell me you brought those special arrows Cid has crafted for you,” Alphinaud murmured at her side, pulling out his grimoire and summoning a carbuncle. 

“Have you ever known me to be anything less than prepared for when shit hits the wind?” Carine countered, pulling her bow from her back and reaching for the saddlebag that held her quiver. Before her hands could grasp it, Eline struck with her lance quicker than a basilisk, nearly taking Carine’s fingers in a single blow. Had it not been for the carbuncle Alphinaud had summoned, the Warrior of Light would have been too maimed to fight, putting them all at a severe disadvantage. 

_ You don’t have the bloody Blessing anymore you fool, _ she scolded herself, allowing Alphinaud to act as the distraction so she could recover her weapons.  _ You can’t rely on Her anymore to protect you. _

Eline would not be distracted, however, for the Elezen put her intricate spearwork to the test, volleying herself over the younger lad and between Carine and Buck. Luckily for Carine, she had been able to grab onto her own spear just in time to block what would have been another devastating blow.

The rumors of Eline Roaille’s skill with a lance did no justice to the skill Carine now experienced first hand. She was quick, faster than anyone had the right to be with a spear in hand taller than they.  She was bold, so sure of every move she made as she made it that there was no room for second guessing. Every blow was made with deadly precision, outmatched only by the skill Carine’s Echo granted her. Even then, the fight was one of the most evenly matched she had faced up to this point.

And the others weren’t faring much better. Ilberd and his Crystal Braves were hard pressed to fight against the Vanguards now using their cannons against them, striking up the dirt and dust to create a deadly haze that did nothing to affect them. She could hear the Braves Marshal roar in anger, his battlecry louder than the screeching of the magitek while Alphinaud made it his job to disable the Medicus and the other Garlean soldiers that had come to aid the Ivy.

When the boy was struck, Carine had to tear her attention away from the woman who seemed intent on destroying her. She threw one of her knives, sinking its steel into the offender’s neck and dropped him, granting Alphinaud precious reprieve. That had been a mistake, for the moment when she went to turn around, the Ivy had taken her lance and sliced it into her calves, bringing the Warrior of Light to the ground. 

A scream of agony tore through her throat as she fell, the pain blinding her to the battle raging all around. It laced up her limbs, raw and burning and intense. For an instant that stretched into eternity, it established its dominance over her mind and consumed her. She knew she had to get up, she knew she had to get away, but every movement stole the breath from her lungs. 

Biting her lip until the taste of copper filled her mouth, Carine forced her body to roll over just in time to see victory in the eyes of the Elezen woman she had considered a kindred spirit. Eline had no intention of letting the Warrior of Light live, she could see that now as she stood over her, pressing the cold bite of Garlean steel to her neck. 

“How the mighty have fallen,” Eline spat, grinning madly above her. “I was expecting more of a fight out of you, Eikon Slayer.”

She didn’t know what she had done to offend the woman, but she knew it wouldn’t work to talk her out of it. Her decision had been made, but so had Carine’s.

In typical bad guy fashion, the Ivy was far too fond of relishing the moment of her victory before it had been assured. Rather than kill the rather defenseless Alphinaud, she had ignored him completely in favor of taking down the legendary Warrior of Light. This gave the lad a chance to weave his healing magic, completely healing the wound created from her lance just moments prior. 

Patiently Carine waited, keeping her face twisted in pain as the gentle caress of his healing spell finished its work. Only then did she twist that grimace into an all too sweet smile. With one quick movement, Carine kicked up her long legs, jabbing the toe of her boot as hard as she could into the small of the other woman’s back. She rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the spear lodging into her neck, but not quick enough to gain complete advantage over her. 

Her spear was met with the fury of someone that had nothing to lose but everything to gain. Blow for blow they matched each other in strength, determination, and skill. Though the Vanguards had now been destroyed and the imperials on the run, neither of them seemed to notice as they collided in a series of furious slashes and blows. 

Finally, just as her body began to scream with fatigue, Eline faltered and tripped. Her spear fell from her hands, kicked away further by Carine as she turned the tables and pressed the point of her weapon to the other woman’s neck. Their chests rose and fell with exertion, but as the Crystal Braves gathered around, it was clear who had won. 

“Bind her, and do it right this time,” Ilberd ordered, handing the restraints to his men as he trained his weapon on the defeated Elezen. “You alright lass?”

Carine nodded, unable to speak for catching her breath. She would have to remember to thank Alphinaud later for saving her ass, an admission that would likely taste akin to poison when passing her lips. 

Speaking of the boy, he approached now looking a little worse for wear. His perfectly braided white hair was pulled loose in some places and his blue attire torn. There were even dark scuffs of dirt upon his normally pristine white boots. Why, he looked the part of an adventurer for once, she was pleased to note. 

“A respected officer of the Immortal Flames... People once looked up to you as a pillar to the order you have yet betrayed. It saddens me to see you have fallen so low,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. 

Eline’s eyes flashed, anger bubbling under their surface as she turned her icy gaze to the boy and growled, “What would you know of low? You - a spoiled brat of a lordling who has known nothing of want.”

Alphinaud took a step back, eyes widened in surprise at the venom in her words. “I-I…”

But she wasn’t finished. “You take your wealth and birth for granted, wielding it as a weapon against others who could not dare to hope to have the importance you do. You know naught of our plight, of  _ my _ plight as a lowborn Ishgardian. I was never an equal, never deemed worthy to be seen as anything other than a resource to be consumed by the noble lords and ladies of Ishgard,” she spat, face twisted in rage as she was pulled to her knees. “Oh you think you know of troubles. Tell me,  _ boy, _ what do you know of struggle? Have you had to fight for your survival? Did you have to steal? What about killing someone, hmm? I have done it all and whored myself to ensure my survival and for what? All to be drafted as a bride to a man I never knew!”

“To hear you tell it, one would think you have ever been the only one to suffer,” Ilberd interjected, placing himself between her and Alphinaud who was shocked silent in the wake of her admission. “In case you have forgotten, Raubahn himself was born into poverty, as was I. I know what living hand to mouth is like, I have had nothing to my name save the shirt on my back, same as he, and there was a time where hunger was our constant companion,” Ilberd told her with no hint of sympathy in his tone. “And Carine here has suffered same as you. Aye, she claims to have had it better than most, but she was born to a woman that had sense enough to flee Ishgard. I cannot claim to know every struggle that woman has suffered, but she lost her sister to the draft and suffered being married to a Garlean herself, yet you don’t see her bemoaning anyone for her lot in life. We don’t begrudge others their fortunes. Everything we have, we fought for.”

Carine smiled at him and his kindness towards her. It was rare when others recognized all she had gone through. But her attention was quickly directed back at the Marshal at her feet. “I have far too many questions to ask, but the one that plagues my mind even now is why? Why sell your comrades out to the Garleans? Why try and sully my name in the process? What have I done to deserve your ire?” she asked, stooping low to meet her eye.

“Why? I did it for the same reason you let Nero tol Scaeva live,” Eline smiled wickedly, glancing with amusement as all the color drained from Carine’s face. “I did it for love.”

“How dare you slander her!” Ilberd roared, pressing his sword to her throat. It was all Carine could do to make her hand move to stop his blade from killing the woman. 

“Stand down, Ilberd.”

“I will not tolerate her lies to continue dragging your good name through this bleedin’ dirt,” he growled, pressing further. 

“And I said stand down,” she ordered, rising to her feet and looking him in the eye. “Or should I have Alphinaud order you instead?”

The Highlander looked between the boy and the Elezen, and then down to the woman in the dirt who seemed most pleased with herself. Realization dawned on him then as he focused his eyes back on Carine. “Is what she says true? You allowed your husband to live?”

She swallowed and looked to Alphinaud. He seemed just as shocked and shaken as she felt, his normally smug face pale and unsure as he looked back at her. “When the dust settled and we won our battle, the treaty was declared null and void which means he isn’t my-”

“I asked you if what she said was true.” His voice shook with carefully controlled rage. She could sense that another roundabout way of answering him was only going to send him over the edge. Whether he was capable of attacking her or not, she couldn’t say. 

“Aye. Nero yet lives.”

“Because you loved him?”

She wanted to scream it was nothing at all like that, that there was no possible way she could have loved someone who could feel no remorse for those whose lives would have been taken by the Ultima Weapon, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because she didn’t know what love was and she knew there had been  _ something _ between them. It wasn’t love, Carine would never allow herself to believe that, but it wasn’t simply the lust he brought out in her either. 

“No. I did not love him.”

Ilberd turned his attention now to Alphinaud, pale eyes flickering with flames of anger and betrayal. “You knew of this. The Scions knew of this.” It wasn’t a question. He knew now that they had covered it all up, and he was reeling. The Braves at his back weren’t faring much better with this new knowledge. The image of who they believed Carine to be warped into something new, something they weren’t sure they could trust. 

“Might we focus on the situation at hand,” Alphinaud suggested, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at Carine or Ilberd. “We shall discuss this at length upon our return to the Rising Stones.”

“Yes, I suspect we shall,” grumbled the Highlander as he sheathed his sword and spat on the ground at their feet. He couldn’t even look at her now as he shouldered his way past, leaving the task of collecting their prize to both her and Alphinaud. 

“So you knew all this time?” Carine asked once he was out of earshot and pulled Eline to her feet. 

“Of course I did. He was still in command of what was left of the XIVth Legion a couple moons ago.”

Alphinaud held up his hand. “What do you mean by  _ was?” _ he asked, interrupting her with the same question that was throwing Carine for a loop. 

“You didn’t know? I assumed he became defunct because of  _ you,” _ Eline furrowed her brow. 

Carine and Alphinaud looked at each other, neither of them expecting that bit of information either. “Could you, I don’t know,  _ tell _ us where he might’ve gone?” she asked. If they knew his location and they could capture him, that would put this entire mess possibly back in their favor. If he was truly defunct, Carine had every reason to believe he would be willing to lie to save his ass from whatever the Alliance Leaders might deem an appropriate punishment for his crimes against Eorzea. 

It was all wishful thinking. 

“Alas, I know nothing of what happened to him and neither does my husband. No one has seen or heard from him since he went to investigate the Crystal Tower, hence why I  _ assumed _ you knew where he was,” Eline replied.

Well...shit. This wasn’t at all how she expected this day to go. Ilberd was pissed, as he had every right to be, and now her secret was on the verge of being broadcasted all over Eorzea thanks to this bitch now grinning as though it had all been her plan from the start. By the way she seemed rather comfortable with herself, mayhap it was. “And your reason for trying to drag me down. Was that part of your deal with the Ascians?”

“Hmph, the Ascian wished he could have been so clever. All he asked was that I cause you a bit of trouble. So I did and here we are,” the Elezen scoffed. 

Carine wagered there would be little more she could gain from questioning the Ivy, though her mind was still swirling with answers yet unknown as they trekked back to Camp Bluefrog to use the aetheryte there for transport. She had tied the woman up and slung her over Buck’s saddle, keeping her completely immobile and incapable of escape this time. Carine was even wise enough to remove all her weapons from the saddlebags, loading them down on her person and poor Alphinaud who stuck by her side. 

“Not so much as a hint of remorse,” he sighed. “I would be glad this sordid business is at an end, but I fear we have new problems to take its place.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know this is all my fault and if I would have just killed Nero it would have saved us all the headache,” she mumbled. “You don’t have to keep throwing my mistakes in my face. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“I  _ wasn’t _ throwing your mistakes in your face. I merely mentioned we now have a new problem. Thank the Twelve Ilberd is a reasonable man who has made many questionable choices himself. If anyone will understand, it would be him.”

Carine hoped he was right. 

 

***

 

Back and Revenant’s Toll, Alphinaud went to seek Minfilia and the other Scions to inform them of this new development while Carine went to find Ilberd and hopefully put his mind at ease from the shocking revelation he had endured. To her relief the Highlander was surprisingly easy to find sitting in a corner within Seventh Heaven with a drink. To her dismay, he was in the presence of Raubahn and they both looked far too serious. 

Ilberd’s eyes met hers the moment she walked through the door, both still flashing with anger at the secret she had kept. Raubahn turned, his scarred face turnin from a worried frown to a warm smile as he noticed her. “If it isn’t the hero of the bell! Come, sit and share a drink with us until duty calls me back to Ul’dah.”

She smiled back, but hesitated at accepting his offer until Ilberd waved for her to have a seat. Maybe Alphinaud was right and he would come to see her reason, however bad a reason it was. That thought brought less comfort than she had hoped as she sat between the two men. 

“Tell me, Ilberd says you spoke at length with Roaille. What had she to say for herself?” Raubahn asked.

“Nothing too revealing, I’m afraid,” she replied as she twisted her fingers beneath the table. “But we now know that the Garlean she was forced into marriage was the man she was reporting to. The best I can figure is that he treated her well enough...or abused her enough to sway her mind. One cannot be certain in these situations.”

He shook his head, braids rolling over his broad shoulders. “I should have known it was in poor taste to bring her back into my ranks,” he said with a heavy sigh. “She wasn’t the same woman I knew. More withdrawn, quiet. Hells, she was more dutiful than ever before, always going above and beyond the call of duty. I just don’t understand how she could have chosen them…”

“I don’t find it so hard to believe,” Carine blurted without thinking. Ilberd quietly glared at her from across the table, pale brow arching as if waiting for her to bury herself in the grave she was surely digging. She swallowed, turning her attention to the gentler of the two, if that could be believed thanks to the scars that riddled his body. “Look at the situation you face in Ul’dah presently as an example. If any one of those men were offered something they couldn’t deny, they would gladly turn on you and yours with no remorse for what would follow all because they feel there is no care given to them,” she explained as best she could. 

“But Roaille wasn’t among them. She had a title, she was respected. She had a voice that could be heard,” Ilberd stiffly pointed out. “Yet she chose to side with the enemy.”

She nodded. “Of course, but we cannot forget her past. If what my Mama says is believed to be true, then the Brume of Ishgard is no better than the camps outside Ul’dah’s gates, mayhap worse because those people are  _ their _ people, just lowborn.”

“That explains her involvement with the heretics, but what of the Monetarists or the Garleans? Surely a husband isn’t the only reason to betray your own people?” Raubahn asked. 

Carine shrugged. “Eline had been a mercenary before she was your Marshal, and she apparently had ties to an Ascian as well,” she told them both, ignoring their look of bewilderment at the casual statement. “The mess in Ul’dah was likely a direct strike at me, though for what reasons I cannot fathom,” she went on. “As for the Garleans, she claims to have done it for love.”

“How anyone could love a bleedin’ tin head is beyond my reckoning,” Ilberd growled, pointedly staring at Carine as though she were at fault for this. 

If Raubahn noticed, he said nothing as he stood and stretched, cracking his bones and popping his neck. “Make sure you put that in the report. I need as much information as I can get because she is not one to talk,” he said, placing a pile of gil on the table. “Enjoy your drinks on me. The two of you have more than earned it.”

He bid them both farewell, and like the friends they were supposed to be, they waved and smiled pleasantly until he had disappeared out the door. 

Immediately the mood changed. It was as if the tavern darkened somehow as Ilberd turned his pale eyes on her, the frown returning to his face. Oh, he would look at her, but he couldn’t meet her gaze, not after knowing what he knew now. 

“They don’t know, do they?” he asked, his voice deep and grating, like stones tumbling over each other. “None of them do.”

She shook her head. “The Scions didn’t know until recently. ‘Twas my lie from the beginning.”

“Because you loved him.”

“No.” She would not let him get that thought seeded into his brain. “I let him live because he could have made my life hell and he didn’t. He is the sole reason I am standing here in front of you today and that he and his kind are gone.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that? What’s next? Are you to tell me that Livia sas Junius and Gaius van Baelsar are still alive as well?”

He was angry, he had every right to be, but he was blinded at the moment and she was at a loss on how to fix this. It seemed like now everything she touched went to shit. First it was the mess with the refugees in Ul’dah, then she had said or done something to chase off Haurchefant, and now it was one of the few people she could stand to be around for more than a minute looking at her as though she were the most disgusting person he had ever met. 

“Look,” she began, tapping her fingers on the table as she chose her words. “I made a mistake. I know this, now more than ever, but there is little I can do about it now. All I can do is hope and pray I do better from here on out. Twelve knows that just because Hydaelyn chose me for Her Blessing doesn’t mean She made me impervious to stupid mistakes. I  _ need _ you to believe that I am looking out for what’s best for the realm.”

“And how exactly does letting a Garlean survive protect us? Do you know nothing of what I or Raubahn or those refugees have lived through?” he asked. “You - who claim to be the defender of the weak -  _ lied _ about killing the man that you were forced to marry. That is all part of your bleedin’  _ legacy _ to those folks. It was part of your allure for  _ me.” _

Carine closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, taking every word to heart like a dagger. It hurt. Each jagged edged wound from his scolding tore open a little more, but she would withstand it if it meant he would say his peace and be done with it. “I never meant to hurt anyone…”

“But you did, Carine. I looked up to you. What’s worse is  _ they _ look up to you. I can handle this, I’ve my own demons to bear, but they deserve better,” he pointed his finger at her. “And all you have to say for yourself is you were looking out for the realm?”

“I won’t deny you are right, Ilberd, but I also won’t deny that had it not been for my lapse in judgement, I wouldn’t be here with you right now,” she told him, meeting his gaze so he would know the truth of her words. “Letting him go allowed him to save my life and Thancred’s. While it was poor judgement, I have to believe Hydaelyn willed it that way so that we might escape and continue protecting Eorzea from the threat they now pose.”

Ilberd rolled his eyes and snorted, “Right. Will of the Mother Crystal now, is it? What a load of Chocobo shite. I joined the Crystal Braves so that I might strike a blow against the Empire as it took everything from me. Those who cast their lot with the Garleans should expect no better treatment.”

“Fine then! Tell me what I can do to try and prove that all I have done and will do is in the best interest for the people of Eorzea!” She pleaded, keeping her voice low enough so as not to cause any attention in their direction. “What am I not doing? I have been funneling coin to a merchant who pays adventurer’s to feed the refugees. I have been spending my time in bloody Coerthas trying to forge an alliance with Ishgard so that when the Garleans attack, we will have more soldiers on our side. I have put aside finding my fucking  _ sister _ to play errand girl for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Tell me what it is I need to do to prove to you that I am not one of them!”

He considered her carefully. What was going through his mind, Carine couldn’t say as she waited with bated breath for whatever his judgement might be. Dimly she was aware that it only took him a few minutes to think about her offer and her words, but to her, it felt like an eternity. 

“You have a goddess given power. You could change the course of history and make a new and better future if you put your mind to it,” he said, his gravelly voice softening. “And I know you have much on your plate, but I would have one humble request for you to bring to the attention of the Scions if you wish this secret of yours to remain as such.”

Carine supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that a former mercenary wasn’t above blackmail. And even though she was surprised, she knew that she had asked for this treatment for keeping her mouth shut when she should have spoken out about it when it happened. 

So she nodded, “Whatever you ask, I shall see it done. And not because you are keeping my secret, mind you, but because I value your friendship and I wish for nothing more than to see it repaired if I can at all.”

Her words seemed to soothe him further, if not take him by surprise. “I-thank you, Carine. I did not realize you valued my friendship so highly, but what I ask may be more than you are willing to handle.”

“Try me. I’ve yet to meet a challenge I cannot overcome,” she attempted to smile, but her nerves twitched at her mouth and rendered her unable. 

“Very well,” he sighed. “As you well know, my homeland is still under the occupation of the tin heads. The women there are still being drafted as brides and their children sold to be soldiers. My request is that you ally yourself with the resistance and liberate my brothers and sisters from their grasp, just as you did for Eorzea.”

Carine blinked, words now failing her as she processed his request. It was one thing to be expected to hunt Nero down and bring his head as proof of her loyalty, a demand she had  _ thought _ he would be making, but to liberate an entire nation that had been under Garlean occupation now for twenty years? That was a daunting task in itself even if she had the Blessing of Light she could use on a whim. Now that she was simply a warrior with the Echo that granted her prowess with all physical weapons and quick trips in time to the past, it was nigh impossible. 

But he couldn’t know that. No one could. She had already made the mistake of telling one person who now didn’t seem at all interested in her presence. 

_ Seven bloody fucking Hells, how do I get myself in these situations?! _

“I can make you no promises to be successful on such a venture,” she replied carefully. “Even with the Blessing, I have my limitations, to which I do not yet know them all. What I can promise is to bring your plea to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and work alongside them to see Ala Mhigo liberated at long last. ‘Tis the best thing for the refugees and for those yet living in the nation.”

Ilberd looked down at her outstretched hand before taking it in his own. “I’ll hold you to it lass,” he told her, the familiar lilt back in his voice as he smiled warmly at her from across the table. “And my apologies for my behavior towards you. It was...undeserved.”

The complete 180 in attitude at her promise relieved her to no end as she was finally able to return his smile. “It was well deserved, I assure you. Sometimes I need people to put me back in my place and remind me that I can still fail.”

“Aye, maybe so, but if there is one thing life has taught me, it is that you never betray your own. I wrongly thought you had done that, and it wasn’t a blow I could take lightly given what Roaille had done,” he replied. “I hope you well know that I would sooner cut off my own arm than raise a hand against a friend. Thank you for giving me peace of mind in knowing your heart is where it should be.”

Carine smiled and waved her hand at the bartender to serve them both a drink. As the ale was dispersed between them, she raised her stein to his in a toast. “And thank you for forgiving a fool of a warrior.”

He laughed, full and rumbling straight from his belly as his drink tapped hers. “Aren’t we all, lass?”

She couldn’t find it within herself to disagree.


	26. Back to Coerthas...Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“For once you should allow me to decide what I find worthy of risking, whether that be my life or my heart.”_

With all things suspiciously quiet for the moment in Eorzea, Carine found herself at a loss of things to do. Y’shtola was back in La Noscea to keep her eyes on the kobolds, Thancred was back in Thanalan to watch the Amalj'aa, and Papalymo had apparently left without Yda this morning to the Twelveswood to procure notes on the activities of the Ixal. As much as she hated the thought of being sent on yet another errand run to a place that may or may not have the person she was looking for, Carine turned and went to the solar to see if there was anything Minfilia needed from her. 

The antecedent was standing in the center of the room and looking up  at the frame that contained the broken staff that had been wielded by Louisoix in the battle against Bahamut. She was so deep in thought that she appeared not to hear the Warrior of Light as she entered the room. Her brows were pinched with worry and her mouth set in a persisting frown as she looked towards the staff for answers. 

The Hyur sighed and dropped her gaze, muttered words falling from her lips too soft for the Elezen to make out. When Minfilia turned, her blue eyes went wide and she jumped in shock. Her hand flew to her chest as she exclaimed something about the Mother and then relaxed as recognition calmed her. 

“Carine! I was not expecting you,” she said breathlessly. “Is aught amiss?”

Carine supposed she should have been offended that the antecedent only ever thought things were going badly when she came to visit, but then she remembered the only times Minfilia ever invited her into her office was when things were going badly. Or if she couldn’t be bothered to leave the solar to give a book to a man that was literally in the next room…

“Not at all,” she replied gleefully, taking a seat in one of the cushioned chairs and then promptly propping her booted feet upon the desk. “I was actually hoping there might be something I could do to help you.”

Minfilia regarded her, blue eyed gaze sweeping up and down her resting form before tilting her head in a curious manner. “There’s something...different...about you,” she noted with concern. “Though I cannot quite place my finger on it…”

The Elezen shrugged, narrowly avoiding direct eye contact in favor of picking at her nails. She  _ knew _ it had been a bad idea to approach the antecedent without the distractions caused by everyone else. Where Minfilia lacked for effort into taking matters into her own hands, she made up for in being far too observant. “I trimmed my hair earlier today, but I doubt you would have noticed it with the braid,” she offered instead. “Oh, and I just walked out of what could have been a rather steamy conversation between Urianger and Moen. Interesting pair, they are.”

But the woman wasn’t convinced. “No, ‘tis something else. Are you sure nothing is amiss with you? How is your mother?” she asked, fishing for anything that she might grasp onto. 

“Wine tasting in Wineport with some friends. I would love to join her, a lot of wine seems to do me good, but I wouldn’t wish to cause a scene,” Carine replied. Which was mostly true. Anytime the Warrior of Light made an appearance anywhere that wasn’t Mor Dhona there were always one of two different reactions. Either people dropped what they were doing and rushing to her to catch a glimpse of their hero, or they were whispering to each other and wondering what was ending the world this time. If Elaine Monteil had any hope to be treated as a regular tourist in La Noscea, it would be if Carine stayed far away.

Minfilia simply hummed and turned to face the wall again, worried expression firmly in place. “Have you heard Hydaelyn of late?”

The Elezen froze, color draining from her face. She knew. Twelve be good, she somehow  _ knew _ her connection to the goddess was gone. Had Hydaelyn told her after she had consorted with the bloody wyrmking? Or was it the power of her Echo that granted her that knowledge. “Uh, no, I have not…” she said as honestly as she could. “Have you?”

“No.” 

“Wait, what?” Carine couldn’t believe her ears. If Minfilia hadn’t heard from the Mother Crystal either, then how in Seven Hells did she know that Carine had lost the Blessing of Light?

Unless...she didn’t know.

“I am troubled by Her silence. We know She grows weaker by the day, but I have always taken my time to commune and listen to Her words. I have not heard from Her since the night of our battle at the Praetorium,” Minfilia replied. “If what Elidibus says is true, I have great fear that another Calamity may be on the horizon.”

There wasn’t much room left to argue that. He had told Carine that Hydaelyn’s power was waning and it was only a matter of time before it was spent. “He’s an Ascian. Mayhap he only wished to discourage us?” she offered instead. “Or mayhap Hydaelyn is working in other ways to see us through?”

That last part forced her jaw to snap shut lest Minfilia question her optimism, if it could even be called that. She still didn’t know that Midgardsormr had awoken thanks to her power or that he had the power to seal away the Blessing to keep her from using it. Of course now Carine had every reason to question why the wyrmking would do such a thing if Hydaelyn was losing Her strength. 

But rather than question Carine and her reasoning, Minfilia smiled. “Mayhap you’re right. She does tell us to Hear and feel and think, does She not? All this time I have spent trying to listen when I should possibly be feeling…” her voice became reverent now as she turned to the Warrior of Light. “Thank you, my friend. You have put my heart at ease for a time.”

“Uh, glad I could help?” Carine’s brows hiked at the compliment, unsure that she had really offered anything to help the woman. 

“If you are still of a mind to help anyone, please seek out Slafborn and see if there is aught you can offer him. I fear the influx of adventurers and refugees and Crystal Braves might be overwhelming him,” Minfilia offered. “And Carine? If there is anything you wish to discuss, any trouble you fear you cannot tell anyone, know that I am always here to lend an ear.”

Carine didn’t know what to say to that as she picked herself up out of the chair and bid the woman farewell. She knew Minfilia meant well. Her tone had been sincere as she showed her out the door, but Carine still wasn’t sure she could trust telling the woman her latest secret. It was one thing to lie about killing someone she didn’t kill, it was another thing to hide that she no longer had the Blessing of Light thanks to her own recklessness. 

She found the Roegadyn standing guard at the entrance to Cid’s workshop, cautiously eyeing the droves of people that passed by. Upon seeing her, he broke out into a welcoming smile and motioned for her to come and join him at his post. 

“Good to see you!” he said, slapping his overlarge hand against her shoulders and nearly winding her in the process. “I thought you were to be taking a vacation? Or at the very least resting for once.”

Carine coughed and caught her breath, taking a moment before grinning back at the Roe. “Ah, but I was told our watchman might need some help, what with all the people coming through here now.”

He ‘hmphed, clearly taking offense at the implication he couldn’t adequately continue doing his job. “And who told you that? To be honest, I have hardly noticed the trickle of recruits and refugees compared to the number of treasure hunters I saw daily back before you lot arrived.”

She knew that was a lie for she clearly remembered the first day they came he was flustered in all his running around. “Whatever you say, big guy. If you don’t need the help I suppose I could just go sit and watch Cid and everyone else work…”

“Now wait a minute,” he moved between her and the door to the workshop with crossed arms. “The help  _ might _ be appreciated. I just worry for the extra burden on your back, is all. If you truly wish to-”

Before he could finish his statement, cries and shouts echoed from further up the settlement. Instinct took over as Carine grabbed the blades sheathed at her side, drawing them in preparation for whatever was attacking their new home. Both she and Slafborn took off through the cobbled street, hurrying to see what was causing the commotion and stopping dead in their tracks at the sight. 

A Chocobo limped through the gate, his harness cracked and broken dragging along behind him. Two Domans staggered behind the large bird, one gripping him for support and the other frantically searching for anyone that would help. Blood stained their clothes, bruises colored their skin, and fear danced in their eyes as the one searching fell into Slafborn’s arms. 

“Gods woman! What happened?” he exclaimed, kneeling down to help her rest while cradling her smaller form in his lap. Carine went to the other to give relief to the wounded Chocobo, whose wing was a bloody mess from a wound on its side. The Doman collapsed in the effort, their face growing a ghostly white as blood seeped from their side. 

“We need a healer!” Carine shouted, controlling the panic in her voice. “You, go to the Rising Stones and seek the Scions within. You, search the Adventurer’s Guild for competent white mages or Scholars. Hurry!”

She summoned forth what little healing magic she knew and poured every last drop of mana she had into trying to stabilize the person in her arms. Their wounds were deep, this one possibly mortal. Carine knew she didn’t have enough skill or magic to completely staunch the bleeding, and before long she was running out of mana for having tried. Just as the last of her magical power slipped through her fingers, a hand rested upon her shoulder. 

Urianger was already weaving his healing spells before she could open her mouth to thank him. Other scholars and white mages from the Adventurer’s Guild joined alongside him and allowing her to check on the person Slafborn was coaxing information from. 

“The shipment...we tried…” the Doman stuttered, already looking malms better than she did when she first arrived thanks to the healers. “We met with the House Fortemps knights to take over the shipment just on schedule. When we made it to the border we were attacked by brigands.”

Carine and Slafborn looked at each other in surprise. “Are you sure they were simply brigands?” the Elezen asked. “Or were they the heretics?”

“I-I don’t really know. Maybe?” she replied. “There was a woman with them, long silver hair and eyes the color of ice. We-we only just escaped with our lives by fleeing and leaving the shipment behind. The others...oh gods the others! Pray forgive us!”

Fear overwhelmed the woman that no amount of soothing by the Roegadyn could fix. It took one of the white mages from the Adventurer’s Guild to weave a spell of repose to grant her rest. Once she was finally limp, Slafborn turned to Carine, “I suppose my plans for you have now changed. If you would, please report this to Camp Dragonhead at once. They need to know what transpired at their border and prepare.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Already she was on her feet and moving towards Cid’s workshop where she preferred to store some of the newer, allagan made weapons he had been hard at work in creating since the Crystal Tower. Thankfully he seemed too busy with whatever task was in front of him to notice her entrance, or that she took the lightweight bow he had been tweaking for the past several weeks. A couple quivers of the special arrows later and “borrowing” what appeared to be new daggers as well, she was out the door and heading towards the aetheryte before he ever lifted his head. 

To her great surprise, the sun was actually shining when she materialized in Camp Dragonhead. Its brilliance was blinding against the white snow that covered nearly every surface and it took several minutes for her eyes to adjust. The knights knew her well by now, waving and welcoming her by name as she marched down the snowy steps and into the hold where she knew Haurchefant would be waiting. 

“Ah, the Warrior of Light! A pleasure as always,” the lord greeted her from across the room. He had apparently been discussing with several of his men something concerning the war table laid out before them when she entered, but it was now forgotten in her presence. “Might I offer you some mulled wine or roast karakul?”

What troubled her the most was the formality of his greeting. Since when had Lord Haurchefant ever greeted her by her title? Had something happened since last she was here? “Unfortunately I must decline. Mayhap later this evening?” she suggested instead.

A flicker of something crossed his face, but it was gone before she could put a finger down on it. “Ah, I see. What brings you to Coerthas then?”

Carine found herself at a loss for words. Haurchefant was never formal and his tone had never been clipped and short with her. She racked her brain trying to think of what it was she could have done to provoke such a response from him. “Er-well,” she stumbled over her words, far more lost now without his usual exuberant self than when he caught her off guard with his forwardness. “There was an attack by heretics at the border. I believe that Lady Iceheart may have been present.”

Lord Haurchefant wasted no time in ordering his men to patrol the area and to send out other squadrons to check other points of interest where apparently Lady Iceheart had been seen. “I want her found at once!” he demanded as they filed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone together. 

She watched him run his hands through his hair, noticing for the first time the tense lines of worry on his face. “The attacks are getting worse, aren’t they?” she ventured to ask, leaning against the table and noticing the red marks scattered all over the map. If each one of those marked a location where the heretics had made their move…

“‘Tis not the concern of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, nor the Warrior of Light,” he replied shortly. “And nothing my men cannot handle.”

Carine’s brow furrowed, hand pulling back from where it had unconsciously been reaching for him to offer some comfort. “But it  _ is _ now our concern as our people were the ones attacked this time,” she pointed out. “And I want to help you, Haurchefant.”

He sighed, his eyes going back to the map and made another red mark at the border between Mor Dhona and Coerthas. “The help would be appreciated.”

They stood there in unusual silence while Carine tried to understand what may have happened since she had been gone. It had only been a few days since last she had seen him, and even then the circumstances of their departure had been strange. Nothing she could think of would have warranted such a reaction from him to be so dreadfully...professional with her, unless her drunken escapade had been witnessed by someone who had influence. She  _ had _ stayed an evening in his personal chambers, afterall. 

But he had never been bothered by rumor before. It always seemed like when she entered a room, all chivalry went out the door and left him a flirtatious mess. He never cared what he said about her in the presence of other people and hells, he had offered to warm her in his room before Alphinaud had interrupted them. 

“Tell me about these attacks. How often are they happening and when?” she asked, distracting herself from the unease of his unusual nature. 

He seemed relieved himself and relaxed ever so slightly to point at each mark on the map. “They know all our routes which suggests traitors in our midst. Whomever they are, however, they hide it well,” he said. “They attack along the main roads primarily in this area,” he pointed towards Boulder Downs. He went on to explain how they appeared and disappeared into thin air, keeping their base of operations a complete mystery to the knights of Ishgard. Patrols had been increased, extra precautions had been put in place, but they were no more closer to finding this Lady Iceheart than they were when Carine first visited Coerthas almost two months ago.

Carine didn’t know what to make of this, her clever eyes trying to find some rhyme or reason to make sense of the marks on the map. “Could there be a cave system? Something where they are taking the supplies they have stolen?”

“Aye, but the passages are far too narrow for them to fit the supplies through. There has been footprints found within the cave system, but the best we can figure is they use it for scouting and tracking our movements,” he shook his head. “And it isn’t as though they leave a trail for us to follow, their footprints just vanish, almost as if they teleport away.”

“But the only aetheryte here in Coerthas is right here in Camp Dragonhead. Where would they be going? And what in Seven Hells are they taking?”

He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. As for what they are taking it seems to vary. Sometimes they will focus on provisions, other times they will strike for weaponry. Only one thing remains constant, however, and that’s the crystals.”

That piqued her interest above anything else. Provisions and weapons were a given, they were a heretical group seeking to overthrow Ishgard for whatever ill-conceived notion this Lady Iceheart had dreamed up, but crystals made this entirely something else. Without another moment to spare, she pressed the linkpearl in her ear and called Minfilia. 

_ “Carine! I trust you have made it to Coerthas and relayed what happened?” _ the antecedents voice came through.

“Aye, but we have a bigger problem. Gather the Scions and report to Camp Dragonhead at your earliest convenience,” she replied. Minfilia did not question her further, mayhap thanks to the urgency in her voice or the fact Carine had bothered to call at all before charging in blindly to fix things. 

“All the Scions? But why?” Haurchefant asked. 

“Tell me, what sort of Primal these heretics plan on summoning?” she countered with a wry grin. 

The succession of expressions that changed rapidly over his features amused her, but only mildly as he fought to find his words. “A Primal, you say? Surely not?”

She shrugged, “In my experience when a group of beastmen, or people, get together and take a shit ton of crystals, it’s for one thing. Primals.” She pulled her quiver from her back and went to counting out each of the special arrows Cid had created. If she had to guess based on the landscape, snow or ice or something like that would be the nature of this Primal. So far, each of the ones she had fought had been elemental, so ice wasn’t out of the question which meant her exploding arrows should prove effective. 

“You don’t mean to fight it, do you?” Haurchefant asked, his eyes growing wide as he placed his hand over her own. “Not after what you told me?”

“I do,” she nodded, flicking his hand off carelessly and going back to her task. It was best not to think about it, not to be reminded that she wasn’t quite the warrior she was before. She had faced down the likes of Ifrit without knowing she had been Blessed and if the Company of Heroes had been able to best the likes of Titan  _ and _ Leviathan without the Echo or the Blessing of Light, then surely she and the other Scions could bring this one low.  _ Mind over matter, _ she repeated to herself.  _ ‘Tis all mind over matter… _

“Then I shall go with you,” he replied as sure as if it were a known fact. Carine stopped in her mental preparation to stare at him stupidly before getting angry that he would dare consider such a thing. 

“Oh I think not! You could be killed!” 

“So could you!” he snapped back. 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “You act as though I won’t come back. In case you haven’t noticed, I  _ always _ come back.”

“And you are acting as if you are some immortal being that cannot be killed,” the Elezen shot back. “Yet you no longer have what protected you before. By the Fury, Carine! Just accept my help!”

“I won’t let you risk your life for my mistakes.” Carine had to stand firm lest the he think she were prone to caving. He didn’t have to know she was frightened out of her wits and only acting as she knew she  _ should  _ be in case the Scions arrive at any moment.  _ I couldn’t live with myself if anything should happen to you because of my actions, _ she added to herself. “Camp Dragonhead and Ishgard need you.”

For the first time since knowing the man, Carine finally saw him angry. His hands clenched, jaw squared, and eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “For once you should allow me to decide what I find worthy of risking, whether that be my life or my heart.”

Words choked her as she watched him march past her, ignoring her outstretched hand as though it were nothing more than an obstacle in his way as he went to the door. Bitter cold wind whipped around her as it opened, the white world beyond swallowing him up before the doors closed, leaving her with nothing but a breaking heart and regret. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it has been well established that Carine is not good at making decisions, yes? Probably a good thing she was never chosen to lead the Scions of the Seventh Dawn xD


	27. To Corner a Heretic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One thing she did know for certain was that if she didn’t go, people were going to die. Good people, innocent people, and it would have all been because she was too much of a coward to take a chance. At least if she tried, there was the potential for success, and that would give each and every one of them another day for a fighting chance._

“Seven Hells, how do people  _ live _ in this place?” Yda complained as she walked through the door. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, teeth chattering as she made her way to the grand fireplace where a welcoming fire burned. 

“I warned you that it would be cold, but did you listen?” Papalymo pointed out, poking her exposed thigh just below where her shorts stopped. “‘Tis no one’s fault but your own you couldn’t dress appropriately.”

Yda stuck her tongue out at him when the Lalafell turned back to waddle and settle himself beside the others that had arrived just moments before they had. Carine was pleased that all of them had come on such short notice and in such a timely manner. Even Alphinaud, who was no doubt still filing paperwork on the Ivy situation, had come at once thanks to her message. 

Curious eyes met hers from the length of the table, all of them wondering what was so important that the Warrior of Light would call upon them to drop what they were doing. She waited a few more minutes hoping that Lord Haurchefant would join them, but it seemed as if he were still angry from their exchange only a bell ago.

When it appeared that no one else would join them, she cleared her throat and began to speak. Just as she opened her mouth, the doors to the hall opened and in walked Haurchefant followed by Ser Aymeric and his second in command, Lucia. Ser Aymeric smiled in greeting, taking his place at the table whereas Lucia and Haurchefant chose to stand to the side. 

Moenbryda, who was sitting closest to Carine at the head of the table leaned over as she eyed the lot of them down. “So these are Ishgardian knights?” Carine nodded, smirking a little as the woman shook her head. “The blonde looks intimidating, but I reckon I could hold my own.”

Urianger, who had taken his place next to the Roegadyn, prodded her with his elbow and shook his head. So Carine wasn’t the only one to be reprimanded for her more chaotic tendencies. At least it was nice to know the Scions weren’t playing favorites. 

“Lord Haurchefant tells me you might know the reason behind these attacks of late,” Ser Aymeric spoke up. 

Carine nodded and took a deep breath as she stood at the head of the table and looked at each person gathered in turn. Haurchefant was the last, but rather than find the comfort she normally found in his warm gaze, all she felt was formality. He didn’t want her doing this. He thought she planned on doing this all on her own. Hopefully after this meeting, he would see that she had no intention of facing whatever Primal they might face without the help of her fellow Scions. 

“As I am sure he told you, and the rest of you are well aware, there was another attack at the border that directly affected a shipment of provisions being sent to help the frontier effort in Mor Dhona,” she began. “Within that shipment were several crates of crystals...all of which have gone missing.”

A collective gasp emerged from every Scion present, though the meaning was lost upon Ser Aymeric and his second in command. “Crystals have been missing from every shipment. Is this something we should have been reporting to the Scions?” he asked in all seriousness. 

“Sadly yes, though we had not thought to warn you,” Alphinaud replied. “These aetheric crystals are what give Primals their form and feed their power. Gods, to think the heretics would attempt to summon an eikon…”

“But which one?” Y’shtola asked. “Are there any deities asides Halone that they would seek to bring to life?”

Aymeric thought over the question deeply, carefully turning it over in his mind as he racked his brain for anything that would be of use. But it was Haurchefant in the end that was quicker to answer. “What about Saint Shiva?”

A ripple of whispers fluttered about the table as the Scions wondered of whom they were speaking. Even Carine, whose mother had been born of Ishgard, knew nothing of this saint. 

“Who is Saint Shiva?” Alphinaud inquired, being the most bold to question the Ishgardians directly. 

“With the length of time in which you were here, I find myself surprised you have not read one single verse of the Enchiridion,” Lucia stepped forward, her tone disappointed. “She was a traitor to her kith and kin, a woman that lay with dragons.”

“Now  _ that _ would be a feat,” Thancred mumbled under his breath, though not low enough to keep Minfilia from glaring at the rogue from across the table. 

“Now now, we cannot expect our new friends to know Ishgardian scripture so well,” Haurchefant interrupted. “Especially when it comes to the patron saint of heretics.”

Carine could almost hear the collective snap as the information suddenly granted them clarity. It all made sense. Where she had originally been so sure it was Halone with which they would have been summoning, given that she was the primary goddess worshipped in Ishgard, a patron saint that held the same values and motives as they made much more sense to fight their own people. 

“This still doesn’t answer why they would wish to overthrow Ishgard,” she pointed out. “What have your people done that would provoke such an action?”

“I know not,” Aymeric shook his head, black hair swaying over his face. 

“And we shouldn’t waste time trying to figure it out, not if they plan on summoning her soon,” Moenbryda stood. “Where will we find these heretics?”

“Alas, that we cannot answer either. They leave no trace when they ambush a caravan save the dead they leave behind,” the lord commander replied. “They simply vanish, as if they teleported to an aetheryte.”

Moenbryda just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’re saying they could be anywhere in all of Ishgard?”

“No. While there are other heretics beyond the Gates of Judgement, the majority of their activity has remained here in the Central Highlands.”

“Then they have an aetheryte here.”

“The likelihood of them having an aetheryte anywhere other than-” Lucia began, stepping between her lord commander and Moenbryda like an overprotective dog only for Moen to jab a finger in her chest.

“My expertise lies in aetherical research, thank you kindly,” she said, jabbing the other woman again. “And if I say there is another aetheryte here in this cold ass winter wonderland, then there is another aetheryte in this cold ass winter wonderland. And I have a means to prove it.”

Without waiting for someone to stop her, Moenbryda turned and went to the war table where all the attack points had been marked. Her pale eyes scoured over the page while her fingers tapped against the wood as she thought. Finally she found what she was looking for and strolled right for the door without so much as a hint to where she was going. 

The rest of the Scions and their Elezen companions scrambled after her, some a little more hesitant than others as Yda paused at the door. Carine handed her one of the cowls that hung near the fireplace which the Hyur took graciously. 

“And here I thought I was rash and acted on impulse,” she said as she fell in step beside Thancred and Y’shtola. 

“To be fair, she  _ is _ an expert in the field,” Y’shtola told her. “And if anyone can tell us where these heretics are running off to, she can.”

It took several minutes to collect enough Chocobos for all the Scions to ride, and nearly half a bell to make it to the border where the latest ambush had been made. It wasn’t a pretty sight either. One of the draft Chocobos lay dead in the snow, impaled by a deadly spear that had likely stopped the caravan in its tracks. Three Domans lay face down in the snow, their blood staining the white snow, though by now they were already beginning to freeze. By some miracle the snow wolves hadn’t come for them yet, which meant the Scions could return their bodies to their families.

Moenbryda seemed tunnel-visioned as she stepped over their corpses and looked at the ground for clues. She seemed intent on searching for tracks, but the scholar was far out of her field of expertise as she followed cold trail after cold trail. Carine, picking up on what she was trying to do, began searching herself and quickly found what she was looking for. 

“They went this way,” she pointed out. Swiftly the Roegadyn followed the path that consisted of at least five Elezen, judging by the size and depth of their prints. They were heading off the path when, like Haurchefant had explained, they suddenly stopped.

“Brilliant! Now, let’s see here…” Moen smiled, pulling a box from her robe and opening it to reveal the white auracite within. “Y’shtola, if you would please.”

Carine stepped back, not wanting to get in the way of the two women as the white mage began to weave her magic. The others gathered in close to watch, their eyes following the blue trail of magic that lifted from the ground at their feet and traveled above their heads. Moenbryda, proud of herself as she looked to the horizon, dusted her hands and pointed. “Your aetheryte is that way.”

“Towards Snowcloak?” Haurchefant asked. “Are you sure?”

“The aetherial sea does not lie, Lord Haurchefant. Your heretics somehow created an aetheryte and likely built their base around it. I say we go check out Snowcloak.”

Aymeric was the first to hold up his hand giving them pause for a moment to think before rushing in head first. “If Lady Iceheart is indeed within Snowcloak, we will need to confer with Lord Drillemont before we investigate as that particular piece of land belongs to House Durendaire, not House Fortemps. Secondly, I move that we take some time to gather our forces so that we might capture any heretics that mean to escape.”

Haurchefant nodded in agreement. “The tunnels of Snowcloak are vast and narrow with many dead ends. We will need as many men stationed at every entrance and exit we know of if we have a hope of finding which tunnel is  _ the _ tunnel to lead us to their lair.”

“And I have half a mind of reading this...Enchiridion, you called it? I wish to know more of this Saint Shiva and her impact on your culture she had,” Minfilia added. 

Both Carine and Moenbryda moaned at the same time in frustration. She knew it was the smarter thing to do, wait and make sure all asses were covered, but the Warrior of Light was finally seeing the end of this heretical harassment plaguing her newest friend. “We shouldn’t wait too long. If there are heretics still in your ranks, ‘twould not take long for them to catch wind of this plan and escape before we ever put it in motion.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, surprising Carine that she had said something they thought wasn’t a terrible idea from the beginning. Tonight they would plan, half of them going to Whitebrim Front to converse with Lord Drillemont and the other half back to Camp Dragonhead to await their instructions. 

A night where Carine was positively sure she wasn’t going to sleep.

 

***

 

The next day was a flurry of activity. Over the course of the morning everyone had been given their assignments. Haurchefant and his men were to patrol Boulder Downs where several of the tunnels were thought to connect to the ones in Snowcloak while Lord Drillemont and his men were to explore the caverns themselves and find the right one that would take them to Lady Iceheart. The Scions and the Warrior of Light were to await for news of any tunnel that proved promising. 

Haurchefant had apparently given up on trying to talk Carine out of her decision to fight Shiva. He had said nothing more to her that night or even that morning, though he had a steaming hot cocoa delivered to her room with a note saying “Be careful”. 

She didn’t want a bloody note and she didn’t want a bloody hot cocoa. She wanted him to hug her and tell her it was all going to be okay, that she would stop the heretics from summoning this Saint Shiva so she wouldn’t have to worry about fighting her at all. But he never came and she was resigned to watching him ride out with his men just as the sun broke over the horizon. 

On the bright side, at least it looked like it would be a beautiful day for once even if it felt like hell.

Carine arrived to Snowcloak not half a bell after noon struck. There had been no point in going and pretending to help when she knew they wouldn’t risk her possibly stumbling into traps. And based on the number of knights that were being pulled out of the caves, there were a good many of those. 

Alphinaud and Urianger primarily attended the injured as it had been Y’shtola chosen to go along with Carine once a suitable tunnel had been found. The Miqo’te was off to the side, discussing Nophica knew what with Moenbryda as they looked over the white auracite that had lead them this far. Ser Aymeric conversed with Minfilia at length about who Shiva was and her role in their history, filling her in on the pieces she may have missed when looking through the tomes the night before. 

Her arrival, however, seemed to bring a strike of luck as soon after she had taken to helping the chirurgeon's load the injured onto wagons destined for Whitebrim, a small scouting party emerged from deep within the caves, a heretic in hand. 

“I think we found the one,” an archer exclaimed, pride all over her face as she pushed the heretic to their knees. “He thought himself clever, but we had been marking our progress ya see…” The knights went on to explain what they had found, giving them as detailed an account as they could complete with a map that marked the dead ends. 

“I’d warn you ‘tis dangerous in there. The heretics have been here awhile to keep the wildlife on their side so as only to attack intruders, but I’d wager they won’t present a problem for the Warrior of Light!” One smiled cheerfully, believing every word she said. 

_ ‘Tis not the wildlife I’m worried about giving me a problem, _ Carine thought to herself as she smiled warmly back to the knight.  _ ‘Tis what these idiots are summoning. _

A few minutes later and Thancred, Moenbryda, and Y’shtola had gathered with Carine to go over their plan. She procrastinated as long as she could, hoping to see Lord Haurchefant one last time before going into the caves, but the courier had just been sent on the back of a Chocobo, and daylight was now wasting. 

“Don’t do anything reckless,” Minfilia warned, her kind eyes looking to each and every one of them. “Go in as peacefully as you can, try and reason with them if at all possible. If all else fails, make sure they do  _ not _ summon Saint Shiva.”

Her words blurred together as Carine’s eyes scoured the sea of pointed faces for the one she wanted to see the most. She reminded herself it was better this way, that he wasn’t likely to get hurt or killed…

_ Or enthralled… _

A shudder rippled down her back as the memory of Marni shoved its way into her mind without permission. She looked at each and every familiar face here and swallowed down her fear. She could stop this summoning from happening. They had surprise on their side and numbers. No one would be enthralled today, not if she could help it.

 

Moenbryda took the lead, brandishing her axe as the other Scions filed in one after another behind her. The passage was narrow, almost too narrow for the Roegadyn, but they pushed through until it opened up into a glittering display of ice. Carine couldn’t help but stop and stare at the icicles that hung in strange formations from years of melting and freezing. Drops of water echoed through the cavern from the sharp tips of these formations, bringing the Warrior of Light to look down below them into the darkness. 

“Do try not to slip and fall. I’m afraid death by falling on ice is likely not to be a wonderful tale to remember you by,” Thancred warned with his half smile, hand gripping her arm. 

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want your reputation as a bard to be ruined thanks to my being clumsy,” she grinned back, though she took his words to heart and stayed away from the edge. 

“It looks like they come through here often enough,” Y’shtola noted, pointing to the grooves in the ice created from numerous feet. “Follow them and we might find our heretical leader, hmm?”

Carine followed her gaze nodding along until she saw something that startled her. Quick as lightning, she drew her bow and one of her armor piercing arrows and aimed it just past the group. She released it, allowing it to soar through the air and straight into the head of a snowy Goobbue. The beast dropped heavily, tiny legs giving out as the full weight of his massive body tumbled forward. Carine knew she hadn’t killed the creature, but thankfully he struggled to right himself and fell again until finally sliding off the ridge he had been hiding in into the depths below. 

His roars echoed, shaking the perilous ice shards hanging above them and making the small party sprint for dear life to the next area. They thought themselves safe until deep, rumbling growls came from just ahead. A pack of six white wolves circled around them, long ears flat against their heads as yellow eyes searched for an opening. 

“The heretics clearly didn’t take any chances,” Thancred said, pulling his daggers from their sheaths. 

“Ha! You call this danger?” Moenbryda howled, swinging her axe through three of the beasts in one motion. “I say let them come!”

Before any of the other Scions could launch an attack, the Roegadyn had already plowed through what was left of the wolves without so much as a scratch. Carine, thoroughly impressed with her battle prowess couldn’t help but admire the woman as she wiped the blood from her steel and flicked it against the ice on the walls. 

“Please tell me Urianger realizes just how lucky he is to have you,” she teased the woman as they made their way deeper into the cavern. 

“If he doesn’t, then please allow me to show you how much I appreciate you...Ow!” Thancred pulled his arm away from Y’shtola, who was unamused by their antics. 

“We came here for a job, let us see it done,” she said, stalking past them all with an irritated flick of her tail. It was clear she would suffer no nonsense with the three of them if she was to act as support, and she left no room for debate or protest as she set a quick pace. 

Anything else that tried to ambush them from the shadows was halted with a well timed protect and killed off quickly by either Carine’s arrows or Moenbryda’s axe. Thancred had even taken to keeping his daggers safely sheathed at his side, instead humming a jaunty tune that the Warrior of Light decided she wanted to learn herself.

There were a few fights that required some precision and group work, however, a mammoth and a yeti being the two that stuck out the most. And it didn’t help that the deeper they went into this cave system, the more bitterly cold it became. Soon all of them were shivering, their breath coming out in clouds of fog that didn’t immediately disappear into thin air. The number of attackers soon became minimal as well, a sign that either they were getting close, or they were going the wrong direction. 

Ultimately they stopped in a dead end. The room was large and circular with giant ice shards jutting up from the ground at their feet. The walls curved upward in a sort of dome with a few empty pockets, but nothing else in the way of telling them which way they needed to go.

“Lovely. I suppose your white auracite can’t help us figure this out, can it?” Y’shtola asked the Roegadyn now pacing along the outer wall. 

“Unfortunately no, but this cannot be a dead end,” she replied. “Too many tracks to prove otherwise…Come, put your kitty senses to use and help me find the spell they used to seal this off. It’s fresh, I can feel it.”

The Miqo’te was less than impressed, but decided not to argue as she and the others spread out. Meanwhile, Carine had an uneasy feeling pricking at the back of her mind. It had all been easy to this point, nothing at all they couldn’t handle. Hells, she was sure she could have come this far on her own without the help of the others, but everything about this particular room screamed that it was a trap. 

“Moen! Look out!” Thancred called out from somewhere behind her. Carine turned, pulling her bow out with an arrow at the ready only to see the largest wolf she had ever seen in her life leaping from one of the pockets in the wall and down onto the warrior below. Moenbryda had barely looked up in time to dodge the blow, rolling under the beast’s snapping jaws and long talons bent on destruction. 

Y’shtola jumped to action, placing her barrier spell to prevent the wolf from leaping upon them again as they tried to forge a plan in the heat of the moment. His snapping jaws crunched against the magic and he growled in frustration at not being able to get at them. Unlike the other wolves they had faced before now, Carine could see that he was thinking and calculating. Again and again he lunged as Moenbryda and Thancred tried to think of a way to defeat him without getting injured in the process. 

“You might want to hurry,” Y’shtola said as calmly as if she were watching the water wash upon the shore in La Noscea. “My magic has its limits, you know.”

“I’ll create a distraction,” Carine said, putting herself into their plans without a second thought. “I’m quicker and can run and strike long enough for you to get into position under that,” she pointed to one of the larger icicles that hung from the ceiling. “Thancred, you hide out long enough for her to get his attention, and then I need you to strike for his weak points, mainly his belly.”

“And you?” All three turned to look at her. 

“I’m going to bring that thing down on its head,” she grinned, patting her bow before darting out from the protection of Y’shtola’s spell. Immediately the beast was on her, all snapping teeth and swiping claws. The Elezen could feel his hot breath down her neck as she ran as fast as her long legs would take her, the sickly sweet smell curling her stomach with every step. With all the agility of a lancer, she ran up the curved wall, pushing off and twirling in the air to put herself behind the wolf and start the chase all over again until Moenbryda was in position. 

The Roegadyn whistled high and shrill, stopping the wolf in his tracks and changing his position. One swing of her axe had the beast howling in pain, and then Thancred was there with his fury of steel slicing into the legs and chest of the monster. Carine pulled one of the exploding arrows from her quiver and took aim, barking out a quick “Look out” at the others as she released. 

The result shook the cavern, bringing down more shards than she had intended upon them. The biggest hit its mark, driving itself straight through the skull of the giant wolf and pinning the corpse to the cave floor. Unfortunately the rest of them were about to suffer the same fate if they didn’t find cover soon. 

“A brilliant idea, Carine. Why in hells did you choose to use an  _ exploding _ arrow?!” Y’shtola exclaimed casting another protective spell over them to prevent the shards from doing too much damage.

She shrugged, pulling them towards an opening that hadn’t been there before, hoping and praying it was the one that would lead them to the heretic’s lair. “It seemed a good idea at the time, honestly.”

“Remind me not to fight with you again,” Thancred smiled, only half teasing. Meanwhile Moenbryda was grinning madly from ear to ear as if she truly enjoyed every minute of it. 

“Gods that was glorious! Is this what you do all the time?” she went on and on as they forged ahead. What they saw, however, immediately dampened their spirits. 

“No way. There’s no way they could have known…” Thancred shook his head as his eyes scanned the intricate walkways littered with debris. “They didn’t have enough time…”

“They had half the day of the knights searching these caves,” Y’shtola calmly pointed out. “It was inevitable we would eventually get here.”

“We should split up then,” Moenbryda offered, already on her way to one of the side rooms. “We might yet find someone that stayed behind.”

“Or they were in too big a hurry to make sure they left no trail to follow,” Carine finished, taking the main path towards a double set of doors. Unfortunately it appeared to need a set of keys to unlock it, which sent her looking along with the others through the scattered books and parchment that might give them clues to their whereabouts. 

At least the ambush had worked to some degree, Carine thought bitterly, rummaging through a bookshelf with hardly any books on it. The heretics had obviously dispersed, forced into leaving most of their things behind. Food, water, clothes, weapons, scrolls, anything anyone could think of that they might need for wherever they were going was scattered all over the ground. Some of it was burning in braziers, likely the most important things they could have found to get rid of in the heat of the moment. 

The Warrior of Light found herself drawn to one such brazier, taking her time to warm her frozen digits as she gave the room another once over. There was nothing here that really suggested these people were up to no good, save the state they had left in. Nothing hung on the walls, no shrine dedicated to their patron saint. It was mostly barren. At least all the other places she had gone where summoning a Primal had been a plan, there had been signs of them worshipping and devoting themselves to the beings.

Not here. There was nothing but scattered books and weapons and not a box of crystals in site…

Shit.

Carine was about to turn to warn the others of what she had just discovered when the doors that had been locked before cracked open and a long, pale arm beckoned her forth. The others were deeper into the cavern looking through the numerous rooms for any sign of life that might have gone into hiding as the approached, leaving her to be the only person being summoned. 

In a long list of bad ideas, Carine just had to make yet another as she walked forward, separating herself from the only people that could help should she find herself outmatched. Stupid as an idea it was, the Warrior still proceeded with caution, her bow at the ready.

This room was unlike the others. It was as wide as it was tall with a dim, flickering, broken aetheryte standing at its center. Though in poor condition, it dominated the icy cavern, held together by poorly welded chains and plates, anything durable enough to get the job done. A large, blue ornate rug lay out before it, trimmed in gold depicting dragons on its surface, saving her from slipping on the icy floor. Standing at the end of said rug was a tall, lithe Elezen woman with the same, dark silver hair she remembered from the vision the Echo had showed her. She stood there, tall and serene with her hands folded neatly behind her back. 

“The tales do not do you justice, Warrior of Light.” She turned then, revealing a pale face and paler eyes. Everything about her looked cold and frozen...like ice. Unnerved, Carine took a step back, unsure of whether to draw her bow or try and talk this woman from her madness. At present, she found that she could do neither as she stood there under the icy gaze of Lady Iceheart. 

“Yes, I know who you are and have for quite some time. I also know that you know that,” she went on, turning fully around. A rich blue robe with white furs covered her, ornately decorated with silver as though it belonged to that of a noble. She was pretty, that much Carine could give her, but she was not a noble of Ishgard. 

At her approach, she drew back on her bow and pointed it at the woman, stopping her in her tracks. “Look, I have no wish to harm you, but I’d ask you to keep your distance if you’ve a mind,” she ordered, swallowing hard and praying that her bluff worked. 

Iceheart looked at the point of her arrow with disinterest that bordered on sorrow. “You would see this endless cycle of bloodshed and loss continue, O’ noble Warrior of Light?” she asked in an almost mocking tone, icy eyes now flicking back to her. “I would not, no...I  _ will _ not. I would bring an end to the chaos and hatred between man and dragon, no matter the cost.”

“Oh right! Of course! How could I forget that Primals have absolutely nothing to do with chaos and fear and bloodshed and everything else you just said!” Carine held her arms out in praise. “Well Menphina bend me over and slap my ass, I have seen the light!”

Iceheart’s eyes narrowed, her face twisting into frustration and disgust as she wrinkled her nose at the Elezen before her. “‘Tis a great wonder She chose you of all people,” she said, clearly unamused by Carine’s antics. “One day you will see that what we do here, we do for the greater good.”

Carine sighed and dropped her arms. “You see,  _ everyone _ says that to me. The Garleans, the Monetarists, you...and you know what they all have in common? They’re wrong.”

“What they do, they do for themselves,” Iceheart corrected her. “I do this for Eorzea. For Hydaelyn.”

The Warrior of Light blinked in surprise, bow dropping just a fraction as she furrowed her brow. “What did you say?” She hadn’t been clear that what she had heard had indeed been right, for she couldn’t imagine that Hydaelyn would choose to summon forth a Primal to right whatever wrongs this woman felt Ishgard had committed. 

But Iceheart said no more as she turned back to the aetheryte, holding out her hand and transporting herself into the aetherical sea. Carine tried to rush forward, tried to capture her, but she had been too late. She roared her frustration, beating her fists against the crystal as if that were the key to bringing her back before giving it one last kick. 

_ She was here! Bloody here! And I just had to let her slip through my fucking fingers, _ Carine cursed herself, calling for the others. It wasn’t long before they joined her, their eyes trailing from their companion to the dim crystal that stood in the center of the room. 

“Well, ‘twould seem you were correct that there is another aetheryte here,” Y’shtola pointed out. “However, it does not appear powerful enough to transport anyone, much less an entire army of heretics.”

Moenbryda propped her axe against the wall and went to examine the structure in detail. Her eyes squinted and lips pursed as her fingers traced the broken edges held together by flimsy metal. “Aye, she has some life left in her, granted, ‘tis not much.”

“Can you tell me where she has gone? Which crystal this one is connected to?” Carine asked. She didn’t care what might be waiting for her on the other side, not when this Iceheart person seemed connected to Hydaelyn somehow. The Roegadyn shook her head, so she turned her attention to Y’shtola who was pondering silently beside her. “Could you do like we did with Titan?”

The Miqo’te looked at her as though she had grown a second head, her tail fluffing up and swishing in agitation. “What we did before was dangerous and reckless enough, mind you, and we had Riol that  _ had _ known where the other crystal was. This would be like dropping you off in the middle of the sea with you trying to find a lighthouse. Chances are, there won’t be any beckoning that you can reach and thus you would be lost forever,” she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head in a definite no. “I will not attempt it.”

“Come now! Who said it must be so drastic,” Moenbryda bumped both their arms, pulling out the white auracite. “This baby still has plenty of juice left in it to locate the other crystal  _ and _ send someone there...but er- only  _ one.” _

Carine looked to the other three, all of them looking at her with admiration and the expectation that she would be the one to go. She knew there was no question in it, and knew there was nothing she could do to fight it. So she lacked the Blessing of Light, there was always the chance this Iceheart could come to reason...if she truly did believe in Hydaelyn and all that. 

But she couldn’t help the pounding in her chest or the fear coursing through her veins at the realization that she and the other heretics  _ could _ summon Shiva...and in that case were her special arrows and Echo skills going to be enough to fight the Primal without losing her life in the process? If she lost her life...what would happen to the rest of Eorzea? Her friends? Her mother? Haurchefant? Would Hydaelyn be able to choose another Warrior of Light to fight the Darkness? Or would the Ascians finally bring the chaos they longed to create to their shores?

One thing she did know for certain was that if she didn’t go, people were going to die. Good people,  _ innocent _ people, and it would have all been because she was too much of a coward to take a chance. At least if she tried, there was the potential for success, and that would give each and every one of them another day for a fighting chance. 

She turned her eyes to Moenbryda and Y’shtola, and even smiled at Thancred with faux confidence. “Alright. Send me to Iceheart and pray I bring her back alive for questioning.”


	28. When the Cold Sets In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You know, this is not at all how I imagined this would happen,” he smirked, adjusting his legs so they intertwined with hers. “I would have preferred much less theatrics and drama.”_

The moment Haurchefant had received word that the lair had been found, he wasted no time in riding over to Snowcloak to see for himself. He knew Carine would be long gone before he arrived, but the hope within his chest that she would have been wise enough to wait for him blossomed and urged he and his mount into a blistering pace. 

It had taken him nearly a full bell to make it to Snowcloak where everything seemed to have come to a sudden, yet pleasant halt. Aside from the wounded soldiers that lay on cots waiting to be taken to Whitebrim Front, everyone appeared to be in good spirits. Ser Aymeric even waved and smiled at him, motioning for the lord to join he and the blonde Highlander woman that Haurchefant now knew to be Minfilia. 

“Pray tell, is there news?” he asked, foregoing idle pleasantries as he looked around the encampment. Several heretics were tied together surrounded by other knights, some scouts were playing a game of cards, and still others were attending the wounded but there was no sign of the Warrior of Light. 

“Not yet, though we don’t expect them back for at least another bell,” Aymeric replied.

Dread filled Haurchefant’s stomach, turning it to stone that even breathing became difficult as he processed the words Ser Aymeric had told him. The feeling locked his jaw, tightening it to prevent any form of speech to be formed. Soon his brain was numb from the chill dread left in its wake, his body frozen as if the cold wind whipping around him were to blame. 

“Not to worry,” the lord commander smiled at him as if his words held the one truth to be believed in all the world. “They will return soon.”

Haurchefant had no doubt he truly believed his words of comfort. He could see the sincerity in his eyes, feel it in the gentle shoulder pat offered to him, but it was only because he didn’t know the truth. The Elezen lord simply nodded, it was the only motion he could afford without making himself sick. 

A deep breath in, and a slow exhale helped calm his fraying nerves and settle his churning stomach. Carine hadn’t gone alone into the cave and she hadn’t simply taken any simple knight under his command, but fellow Scions of the Seventh Dawn. If all her objective was to find the base of the heretics and the aetheryte that brought them there, he had no doubt in his mind that she and the Scions would succeed. 

The problem was, Carine rarely stopped at her objective.

He cursed himself for having been so cold towards her, especially if it had done naught to change her mind in the endeavor. It was what had made him admire her from the beginning, her tenacity and dedication to any and all tasks set before her. How many people could face the monsters she did and come back with a smile? Hells, he knew adventurers that had come to Coerthas in an attempt to slay just a single dragon hang up their weapons and gear for good for having tried.

And yet he had tried to ask her not to do everything she had always done. He had tried to change her mind, like the fool he was, and turned the cold shoulder when she hadn’t bent to his will. Instead he should have supported her, lent her his shield and sword and maybe, just maybe, she would have chosen him to fight by her side instead of the Roegadyn woman. It wasn’t that he doubted her abilities, Moenbryda appeared more than capable and eager for a fight, but seeing Carine in good health would have put his troubled mind at ease.

Now all that was left to do was wait.

To busy himself, he had taken to reading over reports from the men he had left in Boulder Downs and sending them orders in regards to the heretics they had captured. He tended the fires and even sent for his supplies to make hot cocoa for those waiting. Haurchefant tended to the wounded and helped the chirurgeons move the injured from their cots to the carts that would take them safely back to Whitebrim Front for more attentive service and warmth.

And still they waited. 

When one bell stretched into two, the busy work he had used to distract himself no longer seemed to occupy his mind. Haurchefant found himself staring at the mouth of the cave and holding his breath until he could no longer. He kept telling himself she was fine. Minfilia wasn’t the least bit concerned as offered her support to everyone coming from their dead ends or to the wounded waiting for the next cart. Alphinaud was relaxed as ever, speaking excitedly with Ser Aymeric about gods knew what. If they weren’t worried, then neither should he...but they didn’t know what he knew. 

_ One more bell. If they aren’t worried after one more bell, then I shall tell them, _ he promised himself, rededicating himself to stoking the fire and melting snow for the injured to sip upon. 

Another bell passed and Lord Haurchefant could no longer keep still. His pacing had worn a path in the ice in front of the mouth of the cave. Occasionally he would stop and listen, straining his ears for some sign that they were well on their way to returning. Sometimes he was sure he heard her voice singing through the tunnels, other times he was sure he caught the faintest scent of lavender that always seemed to cling to her skin. Each time his mind played the devilish trick his heart had soared only to be crushed by the reality that none of them were coming back. At least not yet. 

It was torture. His mind raced with the endless possibilities that could have befallen her and her comrades. It dreamed up horrible images that made his stomach churn. His heart raced in his chest and the only comfort he found was in constant movement. Minfilia had long given up on trying to console him and Alphinaud had been quick on his feet behind her when the lord wouldn’t stop for even a moment’s rest. 

And then he heard them. Voices coming through the tunnel that filled his heart full to overflowing. A wide grin born of intense relief spread over his face as he waited for them to squeeze through the narrow passage. He was ready to take Carine up in his arms and never let her go, damn the protests and damn propriety. If he had to get on bended knee to beg her forgiveness in not trusting that she knew what she was doing, he would gladly do so as long as she deemed it necessary. Anything to make her smile at him again or laugh...Fury take him, what he would do to hear her laugh…

But the faces emerging from the cave did not belong to the beautiful Elezen warrior with moonlight in her hair. Instead he was met with a cheerful Moenbryda, a grinning Thancred, and what appeared to be a rather optimistic Y’shtola. He let them pass in hoping that Carine was not far behind. Knowing her she was probably attempting to drag an entire yeti through the cave just to turn its fur into blankets for the poverty stricken. He smiled at the imagery, the thought warming him from the inside out as he waited. 

When several minutes passed and there were no more signs of anyone coming through the cave, he turned to see the Scions gathered together. Ser Aymeric was among them, his stern eyes looking towards the ground as he nodded at whatever they were discussing. Curiosity pricked at his mind, pulling him away from his post at the cave and towards them to hear what they had to say. 

“So she should be able to come back to wherever this is?” Minfilia pointed to a strange white stone in Moenbryda’s hands. 

“Aye, but I cannot take it further than I am already. She had to attune to the aetheryte, but it lacks the power to bring her back on its own. This can help guide her well enough,” the Roegadyn replied with great confidence. 

“It seems we may be able to call off the hunt,” Ser Aymeric smiled at Haurchefant. “The heretics have already abandoned their base and likely won’t return as we now know its location. If you wish to return to Camp Dragonhead-”

He shook his head and turned to those that had just returned. “Where is Carine? I thought she had been with you? And what do you mean ‘guide her well enough’?”

“Oh, ‘tis nothing! The aetheryte the heretics used was practically dead when we found it, enough energy to send her to where the heretics had gone and follow Lady Iceheart,” Moenbryda grinned. “A shame she had to go alone, I wasn’t convinced but Y’shtola and Thancred here-”

“She did  _ what?!” _ he exclaimed, eyes growing wide and hands clenching at his sides. No, he had to have misheard them. Carine was determined to a fault, but surely she wouldn’t risk her life if it meant risking the entire future of Eorzea. She wasn’t foolish. 

Minfilia just smiled, likely from being used to such reactions in all situations similar up until now. “‘Tis nothing to worry over, Lord Haurchefant. The Mother protects her as she always has.”

Ice filled his veins, his heart dropping from his chest in a moment that left him senseless. His ears throbbed with the pressure building and dread rolled through his entire being once again in force. He swallowed, forcing the sharp bite of bile now coating his tongue, willing himself to not get sick as he turned on his heels and marched for the cave. 

“Lord Haurchefant?”

“Where are you going?”

“Are you quite well?”

He could hear their worry as if they were far off in the distance, but they were too far away to care. The life had melted out of him, replaced with nothing more than the need to find wherever Carine had gone and to bring her back kicking and screaming if he had to. His body moved of its own accord, driven by a primal desire to stop at nothing until he had her safe in his arms. 

Hands gripped at him, attempting to pull him back, but the surge of adrenaline now coursing through his veins allowed the Elezen to push them away. They couldn’t hope to stop him as he marched to the cave entrance. More hands, stronger hands, pulled him away this time, but still he marched on without a backwards glance. They didn’t understand...they couldn’t...they wouldn’t…

“Lord Haurchefant! Have you gone mad?!” He could barely hear Lord Drillemont shouting at him as he pulled back on his arm. Had he really gone mad? No, that couldn’t be right. He never thought more clearly than he did in this moment. Carine needed help,  _ his _ help, since everyone else deemed it suitable to leave her behind without a friend to welcome her. ‘Twas little wonder she came to visit him on her vacation in this frozen wasteland.

More hands gripped onto his armor, slowing his process. He fought them off, kicking, punching, throwing his elbows in his attempt to get free. “Get off me! Let me go! She  _ needs _ help!”

It took an unforgiving blow to the head to stop the Elezen lord in his tracks. The sharp, throbbing pain interrupted his frantic state of mind, calming him long enough for the hands that had been reaching for him to collect him in a punishing grasp. Before he had gathered his scattered thoughts, he was already prohibited from further movement. 

Defeated, he hung his head low and dropped his shoulders. His eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted in despair as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

He had failed her.

 

Ser Aymeric stood there dumbfounded as the rest of them as he stared down at the man he had considered a long time friend. He had known him to be passionate and had suspected he harbored feelings for the Warrior of Light, but he had not known to what extent. To see him now was to bear witness to ultimate defeat, to see despair manifest into physical form. 

It was most unsettling. 

“Minfilia has assured me there is nothing to fear, her Blessing of Light-” He reached out his hand to comfort the man in the only way he knew how. 

But Haurchefant would hear none of it as he rounded on them all. “You bloody fools! She no longer  _ has _ the Blessing!”

Deafening silence followed the revelation, each person present save the lord himself turning to look at each other in shock and uncertainty. Suddenly Haurchefant’s actions no longer seemed like madness, for Aymeric himself had half a mind to rush in after the woman with as many knights as could follow. 

“Y-you must be mistaken, my lord. Carine has said nothing-” Minfilia whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as they looked now to the empty mouth of the cave. 

“Of course she didn’t tell you,” he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he lifted himself to his feet. “When was the last time you sat with her and asked her how she felt? When was the last time you took a moment to make sure that you weren’t asking too much of her? When was the last time you treated her as a woman rather than a pawn to be played or a weapon to be wielded?”

Aymeric wanted to correct him, remind him whose presence he was in and to watch his tongue, but he knew it would do little good. The man was out of his mind with worry, his heart breaking in his eyes as he turned back to the mouth of the cave with a look of such wanting even  _ he _ felt the pain. 

Still, his words were wounding enough, the effect immediate as the lord commander turned to apologize on his behalf to the Scions. Each of them stared down at their feet. Some of them paced with their heads low while others picked at their fingers. Minfilia was the only one to continue standing tall though sorrow spilled from her eyes. 

“Gods, what have I done?”

The words were but a whisper on the wind, carried away just as Aymeric heard them and gone before he could think of what to say. What did one do in a time like this where one’s dear friend was breaking and the strongest people he knew were guilt-ridden?

“Lucia. Lord Drillemont.” He turned to his second in command and the other lord, motioning for them to join him at his side. 

“Ser?”

“I need you to escort the antecedent and Lord Haurchefant to Whitebrim Front,” he ordered and motioned to the carriage drivers to prepare for departure. “I cannot say what state the Warrior of Light will return to us in, but neither of them should be present for better or worse, do I make myself clear?”

Lucia nodded, but Drillemont did not seem as sure. “My lord, if I may? I fear convincing Lord Haurchefant to quit this place may prove difficult.”

“Then keep him busy. Have him prepare a room to receive her. ‘Tis cold enough now and will only get colder as night falls,” he replied. “I’ll keep the other Scions here with me in case there is a development. If anything changes, they can contact Minfilia.”

 

It was two full bells after Minfilia and Lord Haurchefant had left before there were any changes. The sun had already began quickly descending in the sky, bringing about an early twilight that had cast them into dark shadows from the tall stone walls that surrounded them. Soldiers and Scions alike huddled around the campfires Haurchefant had built while waiting earlier that afternoon, rubbing their hands together and sitting closely to share their warmth. 

It had been the surprised gasp that had come from one such fire that had alerted the lord commander that something was amiss. Moenbryda had stood and pulled out the white auracite that was now glowing and humming in her hands. She backed away from the fire, as aether collected in the air, puzzling together the physical form of the Warrior of Light. 

Relief poured over him like the feeling of the warm rays of sun after weeks of clouds and snow. Aymeric couldn’t help but smile as he rushed forward to catch the Elezen warrior as she stumbled. Her friends and fellow Scions laughed and cheered and wasted no time in contacting Minfilia to let her know that she had come back safe and sound. 

“Did I-did I make it?” Carine mumbled, leaning heavily against him for support. 

“Glad am I you did,” he smiled warmly. “You have a certain lord worried for you.”

She smiled weakly, “Guess I showed him, huh?”

Her eyelids fluttered almost as if she were struggling to maintain focus on him, and every moment he allowed her to lean upon him, the closer he was to carrying her. His smile died on his lips as he looked her over. “Carine? Do you feel well?” he asked, helping set her upon the ground to get a better look at her. 

“I’m very...tired. I-I think I just need to sleep…” she replied, falling forward into his arms. Her skin was pale and colorless, her lips blue. He ignored the painful bite of her cold hands as he looked upon her greying fingers. Already she was so far gone that her body had given up on trying to warm itself as not a single tremor or shiver coursed through her.

There wasn’t a minute left to waste as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her to a waiting Chocobo and mounting as swiftly as he could. “Someone call Minfilia and tell her we are on our way and ask them to have warm blankets at the ready!” he ordered over his shoulder, spurring the animal into action. It squawked, unused to the heavier weight of two passengers, but Aymeric didn’t care as he pushed the bird harder and faster. 

Carine’s eyelids fell as she curled her face into the warmth of his neck, the chill biting his skin from her touch. “Stay with me, Carine. Don’t go to sleep, not yet.”

“But I’m so tired…just a small nap, that’s all,” she whimpered against him. 

Aymeric was running out of time. 

She was barely coherent as they charged through the gates of Whitebrim and growing distant by the second. Thankfully they had received his message as Haurchefant rushed forth from the main hold with thick furs in his arms. He wasted no time collecting the Warrior of Light from his arms, not even bothering to exchange words with the man as he hurried her inside.

He watched as the lord cradled her against his body, voice crooning gently as he took her up the stairs and into the hold where hopefully a warm bed and several chirurgeons awaited to tend to her, and prayed that he had brought her just in time. 

 

Haurchefant ignored the stares and gasps as he barged through the hold, taking the stairs two at a time to the room that Lord Drillemont had designated as hers. Carine was frozen, half awake and half asleep in his arms with the cold still trying to lay claim to her life. No one had expected this, not even him as he lay her down on the bed and tried to warm her as best he could with the furs and blankets he had heating by the fire. 

She had never been so lifeless, not as long as he had known her. He didn’t like how frail and fragile she looked as he piled on blanket after blanket with no success of heating her. Frustration grew to desperation and longing to see the color return to her cheeks and the light into her eyes. His hands worked over her frozen fingers, gathering friction in another attempt to warm her. He prayed and he begged and he bargained with the Fury to take her place if it were possible, but no matter what he offered, Halone never answered. 

A chirurgeon entered the room and shooed him away to examine her. Blanket after blanket was removed from her frozen form, his protests falling on deaf ears as he tried to reason that she was too cold to not have them. 

“Blankets will do her no good,” the woman replied with a shake of her head. She then reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a pair of shears. 

“Heavens help you! What do you think you’re doing with that?!” he made to grab for them, fearful that this was a direct attack from a heretic before his very eyes, but the chirurgeon was too quick. 

“You forget yourself, Lord Haurchefant,” she scolded, pointing the shears in his direction. “Now, do her a favor and turn your back.”

He looked at her in disbelief. She had to be insane if she thought he would let Carine out of his sight with a woman that had something akin to a weapon in her hands. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, curious to see what she planned on doing with those scissors. 

The Elezen sighed and closed her eyes as if in prayer. “Suit yourself,” she shrugged and began cutting the clothes that were still on Carine’s body. 

His eyes widened and cheeks blushed red as he quickly averted his gaze to preserve her modesty. “I-I did not realize…”

“Of course not, how many times have you saved someone from the cold, hmm?” she chuckled. “Now, remove your clothes as well. Everything except your smalls, mind you.”

“I beg your pardon?” He wanted to whip around, but he stood firmly planted where he was, swallowing hard at the reaction his body was having of its own accord. 

“You heard me, my Lord. Strip, she needs body warmth if you have any hope of saving her and the best way to do that is through skin contact. Poor dear is having a time with it right now,” she said, voice turning almost motherly towards the woman on the bed. 

Hesitantly he did as he was told, caution turning into urgency as he heard the chirurgeon telling Carine to stay awake. Before long he was in nothing save his smalls and feeling terribly exposed as she motioned for him to get into the bed. 

The air hissed out of his lungs as he wrapped his body around Carine’s, her freezing skin almost painful for him to hold onto. Her eyes flew open briefly at the contact, blinking up at him in confusion before closing in bliss. She sighed in content, snuggling closer to him and burying her head under his arm, earning another hiss in the process. 

“Now, don’t let her sleep just yet, my lord. She’s not nearly out of the woods. It might even be better if we had another warm body she could-”

“Mine shall do just fine,” he interrupted, not even allowing her to finish the thought. 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged and gathered her things to head out the door. 

“Pray tell, where are you going? If she is not yet out of the woods, shouldn’t you be close at hand?” While he had no reason not to trust her judgement, the woman was a trained healer after all, he was beginning to question her methods. 

“There’s little I can do for her at the moment. I can mend the flesh and cure wounds and illness, but my magic cannot thaw things that are frozen,” she explained. “‘Tis a delicate process. She needs blood flow to her extremities before my magic will do her any good, which is where you and your warmth comes in. Keep her awake until I tell you otherwise. I shall return soon.”

And with that, she left the two of them alone and practically naked in the bed together. Haurchefant wrapped her in his arms, pulling her closer to provide as much skin contact as he could bear. She hummed against him and relaxed, forcing him to gently shake her shoulders. “My dear, I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to sleep just yet. Doctor’s orders.”

Incoherent mumbles were his reply. Rebellious even when facing death, it seemed. Another thing to add to the long list of things he admired about her. The moonlight shining in her hair, the way her eyes lit up as she looked into a star-filled sky, the beautifully haunting voice she had when she sang sorrowful songs in his keep...not to mention her bravery, her kindness, her undying compassion. All of it was beautiful to him. 

“You know, this is not at all how I imagined this would happen,” he smirked, adjusting his legs so they intertwined with hers. “I would have preferred much less theatrics and drama.”

There was no way in knowing if the jab in his side had been from her adjusting herself against him or on purpose, but Haurchefant couldn’t care less. All that mattered to him in this moment was that she was whole and safe in his arms. The healer could claim she wasn’t nearly out of the woods, but she didn’t know Carine like he did. She was a fighter. A beautiful, wonderful, courageous,  _ foolish _ fighter and now that she was in his arms, he wasn’t about to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL. THE. ANGST. <.< >.< >.>


	29. When Patience Pays Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Did you honestly believe I was done with you?”_

Voices outside the room roused Carine from a wonderful, needed, dreamless slumber. Languid limbs stretched, taking up most of the giant bed that she lay in alone, joints popping as she yawned and curled back under the nest of blankets and furs. It was warm, so deliciously warm that she never wanted to leave. 

As her body relaxed and sweet bliss called upon her once more, the voices began again. Stubbornly, she peeked one eye open in search of the offenders that dare interrupt her sleep. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t just walked into a frozen theater and battled with a bloody eikon to save them all. Again. Was it really so much to ask for some peace and quiet?

Rest. She needed more rest. Gods, when had she ever slept so good? But wishing for sleep and accomplishing the act were two different things. Tranquility lay just beyond her grasp, frustratingly so, especially once her mind began to whir with broken images of the night before flashing in inconsistent patterns. 

Carine sat up straight and stiff as a board. The blankets that had been wrapped tightly around her now fell, leaving her skin bare in the glow of sunlight that poured in through the widows behind her. Her breathing reduced to short bursts, heart pounding like a drum within her chest as she now realized she was in an unfamiliar room with voices she couldn’t make out on the other side of the door. 

She glanced around searching for anything she could possibly use as a weapon. Her bow was gone, Carine was fairly sure it had broken after becoming encased in ice for what felt like a godsdamned eternity, and there wasn’t even so much as a butter knife on the table. Only a lonely, little cup full of water. Her gaze drifted to the walls, finding the Durandaire crest staring back at her from over the mantle, granting her blessed relief.

She was safe. Blessed Nophica she had managed to come back!

Not that she could remember exactly  _ how _ she accomplished that. 

As she reached for the cup on the table at the foot of her bed, Carine soon realized she wore not a stitch on her body save the small clothes she had brought with her. Embarrassment colored her cheeks as she pulled the blankets back over her shoulders and grabbed the cup, sipping at the cool liquid to quench her thirst. 

_ I suppose those clothes were ruined too. Mama will absolutely love that… _ she thought idly as she finished the last of her drink when the door to her room cracked open and a familiar blonde head peeked in. 

“Oh thank the Twelve! You’re awake!” Minfilia exclaimed, her beautiful face lighting up at the sight of her. It was unusual to see the woman so enthusiastic and for a moment Carine wondered just how hard she had been hit to have been transported to another reality.

“Er-only just. Have I been asleep long?” she asked, cautiously eyeing the Hyur as she sat upon the edge of the bed. 

“Two days. ‘Twould not have been so long but the pain you were suffering…” Her eyes fell to her hands that were now holding onto the Elezen’s. 

Pain? Carine hadn’t remembered being in pain. She remembered being cold, so unbelievably cold that it became impossible to remember what the sun felt like on her skin or in her hair, but pain? And two whole days? She was so sure that everything had just happened the night before... “I don’t understand…”

“You were practically frozen when Ser Aymeric rushed you here,” Minfilia explained, her voice quiet and distant as she recalled the memory. “You couldn’t walk, couldn’t stand on your own. Lord Haurchefant stayed with you all through the night and the next day to help warm you and calm you, but even he struggled to keep you still and quiet.”

“Was I so gravely wounded?”

She couldn’t quite recall the details of her battle with Saint Shiva. They had fought, of that she was certain, but she didn’t remember actually being mortally wounded or even tossed about as she had in other battles. The things she did remember, she didn’t trust. People couldn’t become Primals, at least not in her experience. They were enthralled. Yet somehow her mind seemed to distinctly remember Lady Iceheart transforming into Shiva by sheer will and faith alone, calling herself a vessel for the patron saint, and then transforming back without so much as being tempered.

But Minfilia shook her head, “Not at all. In fact, the chirurgeon had said there was hardly a scratch upon you. ‘Twas the cold. I cannot say I understood everything she told me, but those that suffer from frostbite often suffer from intense pain as they recover. How she told it did not do the process justice.”

_ Oh. _ Carine knew little of the ailment, only that it was known to take fingers and toes from those unlucky enough to have suffered. Immediately she began to check, counting them out one by one and smiling when she was whole. “I take it I should be thanking Y’shtola?”

“And Urianger and several chirurgeons,” Minfilia smiled back, but there was a sadness in her expression that worried Carine. She had seen the antecedent as many things, thoughtful, practical, and diplomatic chief among them, but never sad.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Carine didn’t know what to make of the question at first. She hadn’t told anyone about what had transpired between her and Lady Iceheart, not only because she hadn’t been awake long enough to do so, but the memories were yet fuzzy and unfocused. She couldn’t be sure what was a true memory or something her mind had conjured up as she slept. Her confusion did not last long, however, as she immediately began to recall everything she hadn’t told the Scions leading up to this moment.

“Er-I’m afraid you will have to be more specific…” she muttered. 

“Oh, Carine,” Minfilia shook her head and squeezed her hand. “‘Tis all my fault.” Tears welled in her blue eyes and slowly dripped from her chin onto their joined hands. “Had I not treated you as little more than a pawn under my command, you wouldn’t have felt the need to keep from me that the Blessing was no longer within you.”

The Warrior of Light was at a loss of what to do. Did she comfort the woman and tell her that it wasn’t? Or did she allow Minfilia to believe that this was, indeed, all her fault? Either option seemed terrible, though they both had their merit. Still, she couldn’t bear to see the leader of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn brought so low because of a choice she had made. 

“Please don’t blame yourself. ‘Twas my choice to keep things hidden from you so it should be my burden to bear,” she gripped her hand back in reassurance. 

“It should not have been. Had I treated you as a friend, had I listened...maybe-” she sniffled and shook her head. 

_ Remind me to string Lord Haurchefant by his bloody toes for this, _ she grumbled to herself as she moved to sit beside the Highlander. “You and I both know I tend to do things my own way,” she explained, trying to think of whatever she could to soothe her. “I made the mistake of going to the Keeper of the Lake and pissing him off so that he would seal away my power...and I may or may not have deserved it because I stink of haste.”

“Pardon?”

Carine waved the foolish statement out of the air, “A figure of speech...I think. But that’s not the point. I know what I did wrong and I should be the one to suffer for it, not when one of my biggest mistakes the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have to cover up.”

Minfilia shook her head and closed her eyes. It was a habit Carine had noticed when the woman was thinking deeply, carefully choosing her words as if each one were as important as the other. “Carine, what I wish for you to understand is that friends do not allow their friends to suffer alone.  _ We _ are the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and that includes  _ you,” _ she replied, finally opening her eyes and staring meaningfully into the Elezen’s. “You would have thought I would have learned my lesson after Thancred, yet here we are.”

“The difference-”

A finger was quickly placed over her lips, shushing her before she could get another word out. “It matters not that he had been possessed and you were not. You were chosen by Hydaelyn where he was not. How can we be sure this was not all in Her plan?”

Midgardsormr’s words came unbidden into her mind in the slightest brush of the Echo,  _ “...‘twould seem it is Hydaelyn’s will that we converse...I but stripped thee of Hydaelyn’s blessing, honoring mine promise to Her thee shall not cometh to harm...if Hydaelyn woketh me by bringing thee here, then She meant for thee to be tested…” _

Mayhap Minfilia’s theory wasn’t  _ entirely _ off base, but it still left Carine to wonder what the will of Hydaelyn now was, considering Ishgardian lore.

“Is all well?” Minfilia’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. Her hands went to her face, pushing the messy locks of hair out of her eyes so that she might feel her head for a fever. 

Carine pushed her worrying hands away. “I’m fine...just...thinking…” she paused, trying to collect her thoughts. It would be better to confess everything she had experienced and witnessed this past week than to try and repeat it several times. Mayhap she would need to borrow a journal to keep her thoughts straight because as it was right now, they were nothing but a heaping mess in her brain with no hope for sorting. “Are the others still here?”

The antecedent shook her head. “Alphinaud and Thancred have remained. Y’shtola had up until a few bells ago, but the Admiral had need of her. The others have returned to either the Waking Sands or the Rising Stones to await our next assignment.”

“Ah, well then I suppose I should make haste for Revenant’s Toll then,” Carine swung her long legs over the edge of the bed and allowed herself a moment to adjust as her head spun. “I would rather not have to say everything more than once, if that is quite alright with you.”

“You are under strict orders to rest! I forbid you-”

“Yeah, yeah, and we both know how I am with taking orders,” Carine smiled. “I actually feel...well. Honestly a little unsteady, but anyone would be after battling an eikon and then sleeping two full days afterwards. And yes, I am being  _ honest, _ even if only just this once.”

Minfilia searched her eyes and looked her over, likely hoping to find one single sign of overall weakness. But Carine had been truthful. The sleep had done her a world of good. Sure she didn’t feel like grabbing her bow and going on a hunt, but transporting to Revenant’s Toll? That was a piece of cake. 

The antecedent sighed and shook her head, not entirely convinced by her words but knowing there was nothing she could do to change her mind. “If that is your wish, then I shall arrange for us all to meet in the solar late this evening. I imagine you would wish to cleanse yourself and find some clothes.”

Carine looked down and giggled at having forgotten she was nearly nude in the presence of her leader. “Ah, yes, a bath and change of clothes would be lovely. Er-food too,” she added as her stomach growled loud enough they both could hear. 

“Very well. Rest for now. I shall inform Lord Drillemont of your desires before I leave. Thancred and Alphinaud will remain behind to make sure you are well enough for travel through the aetherical sea or to ride alongside you should you not be,” Minfilia informed her, giving her hand one last squeeze. “Try not to push yourself for our benefit. There is no reason to punish yourself for that which can no longer be changed.”

 

Carine did as she was told, curling back under the blankets and earning herself a brief catnap before Durendaire servants came in with a large tub and several buckets of steaming hot water. Fresh clothes were folded in one of the chairs for her; a lovely dark leather vest with a warm cotton shirt and thick breeches suited much to her liking. Food was brought in as well, mostly fruits and bread, things light and easy on the stomach for someone who had not eaten in two days. Ravenous as she might have been, the Warrior of Light paced herself and took only what she could handle, leaving the rest with a note of thanks to the servants.

She was just lacing her boots when another knock rapped against the door. She called them in thinking it would likely be Lord Haurchefant, as she hadn’t seen nor heard from him since she had woken, but found instead that it was Ser Aymeric and Lucia entering her room. 

“Minfilia said that you were awake,” he smiled kindly as he shut the door behind him. “Glad am I to see you in better form than when last I laid eyes upon you.”

Like always, he was dressed in his impressive blue armor that brought out the rich color of his eyes. Lucia stood ever stoically at his side, her own gaze never leaving Carine which made her decidedly uncomfortable. Something about that stare gave her the impression the woman wasn’t overly fond of her, not that she had any clue as to why. Admittedly, Carine found herself a bit of a coward in her presence, finding her more intimidating than the Warrior of Light ought to. 

She wanted to ask exactly  _ when _ he had laid eyes last upon her because that could have been either when she was nearly frozen solid or nearly naked in this very bed, but that seemed hardly an appropriate question to ask the lord commander. Besides, Lucia would likely snap at her for being disrespectful. “Glad am I to be feeling well,” she finally replied. “Apologies for not capturing Lady Iceheart.”

“There is nothing to forgive. You risked your life for all of Ishgard and stopped a Primal from turning the tides of our war. That is already more than we could have ever hoped to ask for.” He watched as she finished lacing her boot, tilting his head ever slightly as he seemed to take in her state of dress for the first time. “Are you leaving already?”

“Aye. There’s no rest for the wicked or the righteous,” she nodded. “And I have much explaining to do to those I have wronged.”

It hurt to admit her shortcomings to a man she hardly knew, especially one that had admitted to admiring her feats. If she were to be serious about making these changes in her life, however, she would have to stop keeping everything bottled inside and start being honest with everyone around her. So far, keeping secrets had done her no favors. 

“I see,” he tapped his fingers against his gauntlets. “I do have a meeting with young Master Alphinaud concerning my report to the archbishop, but I would tell you first. The bravery in which you exhibited in fighting both the heretics and Shiva should be honored, and I have every intention of petitioning on your behalf for that alliance the Scions have been requesting.”

“My lord…”

He held up his hand to silence a shocked Lucia behind him. “I cannot make any promises, but I can assure you that he and his Heavensward will know that what you have done for us was an act of selflessness that should at least be honored by an audience with his Holiness.”

Carine stared at him wide-eyed, unable to think of what to say. Before now he had been so sure that there was nothing the Warrior of Light or the Scions of the Seventh Dawn could do to earn themselves an audience with the leader of Ishgard. “Thank you, Ser Aymeric. Your belief in us is greatly appreciated.”

“‘Tis the least I can do after all you have risked for us, Carine,” he bowed. “And if I may have one last request of you?”

“Of course. If it is within my power, I shall see it done.”

“‘Tis not for my benefit,” Aymeric smiled at her as if he were in on some secret she did not yet know. “There is a certain lord that was most distressed when he learned of your intent to risk life and limb to stop Iceheart. Took a dozen knights and one mighty blow to the head to restrain him from following you.”

There was little doubt in her mind which lord he was referring to, and a small smile spread on her lips. “I did not take you to be a man of exaggeration, Ser Aymeric.”

“I am not exaggerating. Had I not bore witness to it with mine own eyes, even I would find it difficult to believe.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded. “Was he truly so worried?”

His face turned into one of concern at the memory. When he answered, there was a seriousness to his tone Carine had not expected, “I have not seen him in such a state, truth be told. There was little we could do to distract him. I would not have used force had it not been necessary. I convinced him to wait for you here, and glad am I that I did. ‘Twas him that saved your life. He carried you from my arms to this room and used his own body heat when magic would have otherwise failed you.”

“I...had not realized…” she whispered. Minfilia hadn’t mentioned that when she had brought up Lord Haurchefant before. 

“Try not to think less of him,” Aymeric asked of her, his eyes almost pleading. “Men express their emotions in a myriad of ways, especially when concerning matters of the heart. Pray, at least visit him to give his mind rest before you depart.”

Carine didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t had anyone worry about her to such an extent when she went to fight powerful beings before save for her mother. Even then, she never gave her mother every single detail to save her the distress. Yet here was Lord Haurchefant, a man that taught her to use a sword and shield, a friend that wrote to her everyday since meeting her, a man that held her hand when anxiety got the best of her, and a friend that feared for her very life. 

He had practically told her how he felt when last they had spoken as he demanded for her to allow him to make decisions concerning his life and his heart. She wanted to spare him the baggage she brought with her, the taboo that would certainly be linked concerning her past relationship with a Garlean, but he didn’t care. 

And when she needed him most, he was always there. 

Ser Aymeric and Lucia left her in the room pondering what she was to do with this. She cared so very much for the lord, more than she had ever cared for anyone. Her fear, however, was being the Warrior of Light and trying to maintain a meaningful relationship. How could he love her and remain faithful when she would be in and out of his life so much? If he reacted in such a way to her fighting Shiva, how would he react the next time? For so long as she was the Warrior of Light, Blessing or no, Eorzea would need her and her particular skills to keep it from falling into Darkness. Would he be able to handle that?

Anticipation clenched at her stomach as she left Whitebrim Front in a carriage bound for Camp Dragonhead. According to Lord Drillemont, Haurchefant had to return to file reports to be sent to his father concerning the heretics and Iceheart. Apparently he hadn’t wanted to leave her side even when she was well on her way to recovery, another thing that both warmed her heart and made it ache in the same breath. 

When she entered the main keep, Thancred was sitting at one of the tables flirting with two Elezen women who seemed completely captivated by whatever story he was telling now. Carine was hardly aware of him anyway as her eyes fell upon the Elezen lord that was now looking up from his war table. 

Before she could open her mouth or even muster a smile despite the churning in her stomach, he was already after her, eyes ablaze with passion as he took her in his arms and crushed her body to his. 

“What were you  _ thinking, _ Carine!” he scolded into her ear in a tone that she had taken for anger. “Wagering your very being on a theory that  _ might _ have landed you in Iceheart’s lair - knowing full well that she had sufficient warning that she could have summoned Shiva anyway? And then…”

“But-”

“And  _ then,” _ he stopped her with a single finger, eyes glaring with such intensity that she had no choice but to close her mouth and weather the storm as he continued. “You chose to engage her in mortal combat  _ without the Blessing of Light! _ Would that I could have been by your side.” He softened then, taking her head in his hands and gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. “Yet I was forced to wait -  _ condemned  _ to wonder the fate of someone I cherish for what felt like a veritable eternity!”

His brow pressed against hers, his hands combing through her hair and whispered, “‘Tis not a fate I would wish upon even my most hated enemies…” 

Tears began to stream down her face, this outpouring of love far more intense than she had expected. “But I am here, thanks to you,” she crooned, wiping away the evidence of her emotion before others could see. At this point, she couldn’t care less what the others thought about the two of them. If they wished to whisper about their personal business, she would gladly let them. She just didn’t like the idea of anyone seeing her cry.  

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. “I thought I had lost you after we had parted on such ill terms. I did not wish for your last memories of me be those of anger or stress.”

“I feel pretty alive right now,” Carine grinned, carefully pulling herself from him. She wanted him to see her sincerity as she spoke and to believe what she said was true. “And I could never think of you in anger.”

“Even if I told the Scions about-”

“Even then,” she took his hand. “They needed to know and I was too much of a coward to tell them myself. I should be thanking you.”

Just like that, the familiar shift in the world that always seemed to happen when they looked into each other’s eyes was back. It was if they were opposite poles of a magnet, pulled together by a force they could not explain. Every other time Carine had fought to resist it, to fight it in fear that she would hurt the man she had come to care about. This time, that will to fight was long gone, chased away by his brilliant display of what could only be love. 

The door to the hall opened, letting in a gust of air that sent a shiver down her spine, but otherwise it had gone unnoticed. Fingers cautiously reached up to touch his cheek, toes slightly pointed to bring them closer together...

“Oh there you are,” came Alphinaud’s arrogant voice. Either he was completely unaware of the reunion taking place, or he didn’t care as he interrupted them for what felt like the millionth time. “Minfilia just informed me we were to be having a meeting soon. Concerning your state of being, ‘twould be best if we ensured you were fit for travel. I’d rather not leave too late if I am to be spending the eve in the back of a carriage…”

Haurchefant furrowed his brow and frowned. “You’re leaving?”

“I...have a lot of explaining to do,” Carine admitted and looked down at her hands. “As much as I would love to stay, I fear that if I do not tell them everything I know now then I will forget.”

“Ah, then I shall not keep you ‘ere long, my friend,” he smiled. Only a touch of sorrow filled his eyes as he looked down at her and tucked a strand behind her ear. “I pray you shall have time to visit soon.”

He released her hand, letting her turn away and head for the door before emotion overcame reason.  _ Blessed Nophica grant me strength, _ she prayed, gritting her teeth as she glared at the boy. Curse Alphinaud and his impeccable timing. Curse him and his selfishness. Never before had she wanted to hit the boy over the head as hard as she wished she could now, but she exercised control. Barely. 

Carine paused just at the doorway, fingers outstretched to the handle. Alphinaud and Thancred both had already departed, but indecision left her frozen in place. There was no promise that she would return to him, that was made painfully aware with this last fight. Two days and a near brush with death had ways of changing one’s mind about what the future may hold. Though she was confident they had forgiven each other, she was not content nor would she be, if she walked out those doors without a proper goodbye. 

_ Oh fuck it, _ she thought, turning back around and abandoning reason as she ran back to Haurchefant, heart pounding in her chest. A smiled curled at his lips as he rushed to meet her, arms opening wide and closing around her in a comforting embrace. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the rich, chocolatey smell of him, hugging him closer with everything she had. 

Before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing him. 

Softly, slowly, innocently, Haurchefant returned the kiss. His hand moved lower down her back, pressing her body closer to his until there was no space left between them. Her world fell away, all her troubles, doubts and fear melting one by one until there was nothing at all but the two of them in this moment. He made it feel like none of that mattered while he held her and lovingly stroked her cheek as their lips parted. 

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, slowly opening her eyes to see him staring directly into her soul. “For everything.”

Having had her moment of courage and winning her prize, Carine turned to leave filled with such warmth that it practically radiated from every pore. Haurchefant, on the other hand, had other plans. His hand grabbed hers just before it was out of reach and pulled her close to his body. 

“Did you honestly believe I was done with you?” he smirked, the delicious curve of his lip taunting her. Carine opened her mouth to answer only to find him silencing her with another, deeper,  _ sensual _ kiss. 

While the first had been a spur of the moment, brief, yet intimate exchange, this one marked a new beginning. It promised anything and everything Carine had ever wanted or craved as their lips molded together. One hand held the back of her neck while the other gently cupped her face, making her feel cherished by a man for the first time in her life. 

Kissing Haurchefant was nothing like kissing Nero. Where the Garlean had been hard, demanding and possessive, the Elezen was soft and generous. Even as his tongue licked along the seam of her lips, there was nothing ambitious about the action. He simply asked and she simply gave, an equal exchange that had nothing to do with lust or power and everything to do with love.

“Ahem.”

Carine was intoxicated by the taste of him; hot cocoa and summer, if she had to describe it. So warm, so inviting, so completely and utterly  _ him. _ And Blessed Nophica, the man knew how to kiss! She was soaring higher and higher, coming ever closer to the sun and yet she did not fear getting burned. His kiss promised he would not hurt her. It promised that she would be no experiment for his amusement and curiosity. It promised that she would owe him no favors nor would it keep track of her every movement. 

_ “Ahem!” _

Haurchefant was the first to break away, eyes narrowing in a short flash of anger at the irritated throat clearing behind her. It disappeared as quickly as she had noticed it, replaced by a warm, genuine smile. “Master Alphinaud, might I have my servants prepare you a tea with ginger and lemon?” he asked. “I am beginning to worry about that incessant cough you have there.”

Carine turned to look over her shoulder just in time to see the young lordling turn various shades of red. It took all her power to stop herself from grinning at Haurchefant’s cleverness for putting Alphinaud in a spot where he would either have to lie or admit that he was intruding upon their moment. Ultimately she failed, especially when she caught Thancred trying to stifle his own amusement. 

“I-I am well, thank you for your concern,” the young Elezen stuttered, ears bright red. “And as much as I hate to... _ interrupt... _ I fear that we really must be leaving soon.”

Haurchefant glanced down at her and sighed. “Must I let you go so soon?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers. “And just when I finally have earned my kiss.”

“Not to worry, my lord,” Thancred grinned as he clapped his hands on Alphinaud’s shoulders, making the boy jump in surprise. “If I have to send this one to the furthest corners of Eorzea to give you two a moment’s peace in the future, I shall.”

“Thancred, you should hardly be encouraging this behavior!” Alphinaud scolded under his breath. 

“Come now, Alphy. Let’s give them a moment longer to say their goodbyes and I shall explain to you the importance of letting others experience happiness…” Thancred turned him around and winked over his shoulder. “We’ll be waiting at the aetheryte.”

Though the two of them had disappeared and the rest of the hall pretended to not have noticed the steamy exchange between their lord and the Warrior of Light, the moment had already passed. Still, the warmth of his lips lingered upon hers and even if it was all in her head, she thought she could still taste him on her tongue as she looked back into the glacial blue eyes staring down at her. 

“I probably shouldn’t keep them waiting…” she said, nibbling at her lower lip. “Alphinaud can be quite a handful.”

Haurchefant kissed the top of her head, lingering there while hugging her close. “I understand. Just promise me one thing. Come back as soon as you are able?”

There was such an innocence in the request, mayhap a touch of apprehension as he looked down on her with such hope and love. She knew not what the future would hold for her, much less what it would hold for them both if they were set to journey this path, but he wasn’t demanding the impossible. Once again she kissed him, hoping to portray to him the feelings she did not yet wish to put into words in the simple action. Just like before, it left her breathless; light as a feather on the wind, dizzy and out of control until they parted once more. 

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE SOME FLUFF! SOME HEARTWARMING, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF!
> 
> *dies* FINALLY!


	30. How to Kill an Ascian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“‘Tis something you come together and find on your own. Love is...a compromise…”_

“So that’s it. That’s everything,” Carine folded her hands in front of her after she finished telling the Scions everything she could remember. She had started with her encounter with the ancient wyrmking and everything she had remembered he told her and everything she could remember about her encounter with Lady Iceheart. To her great surprise, no one seemed overly angry with her. Even if that were because she had almost frozen to death, it was still nice to know they cared enough to be gentle with her for now. 

“‘Tis little wonder you were demanding a vacation,” Minfilia frowned. It was a lot to take in, Carine knew that. Hells, it was a lot for her to process. Half the time she felt as though she were going mad, the other half seemed to be her making poor decision after poor decision. Either way, she couldn’t think clearly from one moment to the next. 

_ And now I have Haurchefant to top it all off… _ That wasn’t a  _ huge _ concern, but one all the same. When would she see him? Did he miss her? Should she really have left him when they hadn’t established a relationship between them other than a few shared kisses? All of those were questions that kept creeping up everytime she had a moment alone in her thoughts.  _ Me and my bloody timing. _

Moenbryda and Urianger shared a passing look of concern with each other before the Roegadyn stood to her feet. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to share the progress we have made concerning our weapon against the Ascians...though it won’t do us much good.”

“How do you mean?” Minfilia asked. 

“Urianger and I have been on a verge of a breakthrough in our studies. First, I suppose I should tell you  _ how _ Ascians manage to remain immortal before I get into the theories of how to kill them.

“You see, their souls do not return to the aetherical realm like ours when their host body is defeated. Instead, it seems to go to a place  _ between _ our world and the Void. Therefore the first step into breaking this cycle is to prevent their soul from going to that realm,” Moen explained and then pulled out the white auracite from the bag at her waist. “This stone has so many abilities already, but there is one yet that I had not told you for I hadn’t tested the theory...at least not until recently. White auracite has the ability to entrap beings, albeit briefly. ‘Twas how I helped Carine into the aetherical sea just the other day due to the aetheryte being too weak to rely on it fully.”

“I see,” said Thancred as he tapped his temple. “Then all that leaves is their extermination. And something tells me that destroying the white auracite isn’t going to cut it.”

This time it was Urianger that stepped up, taking his place at Moenbryda’s side and offering his knowledge on the matter. “Indeed. To unmake an Ascian soul, one must needs smite it with a concentrated burst of purest aether. However we yet want for both the data and the means to forge such a weapon.”

“Unfortunately, I had been mostly counting on your Blessing of Light to be the answer to our problem,” Moenbryda looked to Carine almost apologetically. “Given everything Urianger and the others had told me of your gift, I wondered if mayhap your weapons of light were a way to tap into vast amounts of aether bestowed upon you by Hydaelyn, granting you power over the eikons.”

Carine dropped her head and nibbled her lower lip. She hadn’t just destroyed their chances of defeating Primals, but now their chances of killing the Ascians once and for all. There was no way of knowing how she was supposed to get her power back, if she would manage to pass Midgardsormr’s test at all. Even then what was to keep him from prolonging the test for his own twisted purpose? 

“So there is nothing we can do to stop them now, is that what you’re saying?” Papalymo asked in his high pitched voice.

“Did I say that?” Moenbryda replied exuberantly. “Though I theorized the Warrior of Light would have the required aether to destroy an Ascian soul, I did not wish to rely on that alone should they require so much it drain her completely. The nature of her Blessing is, after all, yet a mystery to us,” she went on. “As we have no way of knowing how much aether it takes to destroy an Ascian, the answer lies in creating a dense, aetherical ‘blade’ in which to strike them.”

“So we just have to make the densest blade we can?” Yda tilted her head to the side. “That’s going to take  _ a lot _ of aether…”

“Ah, so we must rely on crystals then,” Thancred nodded. “While they make up for being a reliable source of energy, they certainly lack in portability.”

Y’shtola nodded. “Remember when we had to defeat Leviathan and the lengths the Maelstrom went through to port those crystals out to sea?”

Carine remembered it well, her stomach already uneasy from the memory of being tossed about on the waves. There had been two ships designated to carry the crystals to draw the beast to them and use their power as protection against his mightiest blows. While it had worked well in their favor, it was one thing to transport hundreds of crystals over sea, much less on land where brigands and beastmen alike might try and steal them for their own Primal summoning. Quite frankly, they weren’t prepared or equipped to deal with another at the moment, not with Carine missing her Blessing. “And that’s even assuming an Ascian would appear where we stored the crystals to begin with.”

“Which is precisely the problem we set out to solve,” Moenbryda nodded. “If ‘tis impractical to lug around crystals, the we must needs find a way to tap into the source...and what source of aether is practically all around us?”

Y’shtola was the first to reply, but only in doubt. “I would not advise that. Tapping into the great river of aether comes with considerable risk. Meddling with the currents could cause such a disruption to the likes of which despoiled Mor Dhona.”

“Oh do give me more credit, Shtola,” Moen winked. “I’m speaking of the corrupted crystals jutting out of the land. They are practically reservoirs at our disposal. Sure, their aspect may be a little off, but they contain aether and are found in almost every corner of Eorzea.”

“That doesn’t address the matter of transport,” Thancred pointed out. “Which leaves us back to lugging these things around and we already decided that was too much.”

“But what if we didn’t  _ need _ to?” Moenbryda grinned. “What if we could tap into it from say, a malm away?”

The Scions whispered excitedly amongst themselves, Carine among them. It wasn’t their ideal choice, she knew that as well as they did, but it seemed to be a safe and possibly effective alternative for their current problem. And Moenbryda wasn’t done. She turned around and reached into a chest, pulling out some strange device the Warrior of Light had never seen the likes of. 

Silence fell slowly over the Scions as each one of them looked curiously at the thing in her hands. It looked almost like a sturdy wand with three prongs and a hilt to grasp it. Some dark orb sat in it’s center, for what purpose, Carine hadn’t a clue. 

“This is an aether siphon of mine own creation,” Moenbryda answered their unasked question. “In  _ theory _ it should work to pull aether from corrupted crystals up to a malm away, giving us our power source for defeating the Ascians. The trouble is, I have yet to put this theory to the test, what with all the excitement in Coerthas lately. I’d rather not test it in Mor Dhona, given the vast amount of crystals here in fear of upsetting something, so if any of you have a place in mind with isolated crystals, now is the time to share.”

With all the traveling Carine had done prior to becoming the Warrior of Light, and even all of it after, the Elezen had no clue where such crystals might be. She didn’t remember any place in the Twelveswood, nor could she think of anywhere off hand in La Noscea, though she was sure there had to be some place. Thanalan had the largest concentration of corrupted crystals through the land, but she felt they were all somehow too close together. 

“Might I suggest Northern Thanalan?” Alphinaud offered, having been quiet through most of the exchange to this point. “There you should find plenty of corrupted crystals that aren’t too big to worry about and they seem a reasonable distance apart. That should suffice, should it not?”

Up until now, Carine had been content to listen and allow the scholars to talk it out. While she didn’t consider herself uneducated, Mama  _ had _ gone through great pains to get the girl to sit long enough to get through her basic schooling, but she was considerably out of her league in listening to them now. However, just the sound of Alphinaud’s voice grated her nerves and reminded her of how badly she wished he would just fall off his high horse already. 

“Excellent! Those crystals sound perfect!” Moenbryda beamed at the young Elezen. 

“I should warn you, however, there are still Garleans in Castrum Meridianum, as Carine and I bore witness in our battle against the Ivy. I have dispatched my Crystal Braves to the area, though I cannot promise they will be successful in keeping all of them at bay should the Garleans find you lurking too close to their walls.”

A silver brow hiked up Carine’s forehead. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you wanted her to join in on the effort to keep the Garleans at bay.”

“Of course not, at least not while she is busy with conducting her experiments. I was actually going to suggest that  _ you _ go with her to ensure she is adequately protected in the field.”

“But I no longer have the Blessing of Light.”

Alphinaud rolled his eyes, “No, but you still have the Echo. You have never needed the Blessing to fight hordes of enemies before, just your martial skill.”

“He does have a point,” Moenbryda tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Though I would hardly presume to ask you to join me right away, considering all you have endured recently.”

Rest did sound good, but Carine would need a year’s worth of it if she was to be worth a damn. Given their current standing, the chances that they would have any downtime was slim. It seemed like every time Carine would go to rest and relax somewhere, something had to happen to make her stop halfway through. On top of that, this problem was created because she lost the Blessing Hydaelyn had bestowed upon her, making it her responsibility to see through and correct. 

“I might as well go with you, kill some basilisks and Garleans while you focus on...whatever it is you have been talking about for the past several minutes, and then we can call your experiment good, yeah?” she asked. “I’ll need a new bow. Er- Shiva blew mine to pieces.”

“Excellent. If you’ve a mind to meet me at Camp Bluefrog in a bell, we can get started immediately and prove this theory true. The sooner ‘tis done, the better,” Moen nodded. “Now...just to grab my axe…”

“Thy eagerness to hurl thyself into the jaws of darkness cometh as little surprise. Exercise due caution, I prithee,” Urianger said, though there was no question as to whom those words belonged. It was the closest thing to ‘please be careful, please’ that Carine imagined the stoic Elezen was capable of saying.

“Aw, no need to worry, my love,” Moen lovingly punched at his arm. “Well, unless you’re an Ascian or Garlean or anyone that presumes to get in the way of my experiments, that is.”

His answering blush and jumbled words brought a smile to Carine’s face. She was reminded of Haurchefant’s less than subtle flirting with her in the way Moen teased Urianger. It brought a slight pang of want, a desire that he were here with her now rather than in Coerthas. Quickly she dashed away such thoughts. It wouldn’t do to be distracted before heading out into possible danger. And without her trusty bow too. 

They departed shortly after and Carine went to look upon Rowena’s wares to see what the merchant had in her stores. As cool and businesslike the Hyur was, the Warrior of Light could not say that she didn’t carry fine equipment. Much to her pleasant surprise, not only did the woman have a magitek enhanced bow for her to buy, but she also had started carrying the special arrows Cid had designed for her to use. 

“I’m not sure I want to know how you convinced him to sell these to you...and I’m not sure I entirely approve,” the Elezen frowned as she looked at the price tag for everything laid out on the counter. 

“Does it really matter if you will have to buy them anyway?” Rowena replied in her usual clipped tone. “I can sell them to you for this price or I can raise it. Your choice, Warrior.”

One did not try and bargain with a woman like her. 

Carine sighed, hating to see all her hard earned money go across the counter and then disappear, an action that earned her a rare smile from the merchant. “A pleasure as always!”

_ Yeah, for you, _ the Elezen grumbled, grabbing her supplies and heading towards the aetheryte to travel to Camp Bluefrog. 

 

Moenbryda was adjusting some things to her strange device when Carine materialized in the camp. As usual, it was dark and gloomy and looked as though it would rain at any given moment. The Roegadyn turned and smiled, waving her over while pointing at a map in her hands. It appeared Alphinaud had even instructed her where these crystals were, well, approximately as they were nothing but large circles in different locations. 

“This one looks to be the closest,” Moen stated, pointing at the one that looked to be about two malms away. “Of course, it’s going to take a bit of time to find the bugger. A shame he couldn’t pinpoint its exact location…”

Together they trekked from the safety of the camp, Moenbryda’s mouth going non-stop about all things aether while Carine found her mind drifting to the wintery world of Coerthas. Admittedly, she hadn’t had much time to reflect on her actions upon leaving Haurchefant behind after kissing him. She had been trying to get her thoughts together on the Midgardsormr debacle and then try and piece together her memories of fighting Shiva and speaking to Lady Iceheart to present to the Scions. 

But now her lips tingled with the memory of his pressed against them, her cheeks warmed by the feel of his hands cupping her face gently, the memory of the love in which he had looked upon her when they had parted. No one had ever looked at her like that. No lover before Nero and not even Nero himself had cherished her with just their eyes. Warmth filled her chest and fluttered her heart, waking all the butterflies that demanded she go back to him as soon as Moenbryda had finished her experiments. 

“Someone is awfully smiley for having to join me on this mission,” the Roegadyn grinned, shoving her shoulder into Carine’s hard enough to jolt her back to present surroundings. “Does the thought of siphoning aether from corrupted crystals make you so giddy with excitement?”

“Oh of course! Always,” she smiled back. “There’s nothing quite like trekking through my favorite spot of land in search of corrupted aether sticking out of the ground!”

Moenbryda chuckled, catching onto her sarcasm the moment it left her lips. “Aye, I have never laid eyes upon anything quite so…”

“Bland?” Carine offered, earning another laugh from her companion. 

“That’s it! That’s the word!”

It was nice to have someone she could banter back and forth with. Carine had enjoyed the sport with Haurchefant immensely, even if it left her blushing and confused afterwards. Something told her it wouldn’t quite be the same once she arrived back, which made this with Moen all the more special.

“There you go again, smiling like a fool,” the Roegadyn noted, pausing in their walk to look her over. “And you said there was nothing to tell. Liar.”

The Elezen puckered her brow and shook her head. “At the time there was nothing at all to tell…”

“According to Thancred’s description of that kiss, there most definitely  _ was _ something to tell. Go on now. Spill.”

Carine shook her head, blood rushing to her cheeks as embarrassment rose within her. She didn’t like to disclose personal information, it was part of what got her into all of this trouble to begin with. Sure, she could sit there and spout off her thoughts on the way things were being handled and how stupid she thought everyone was being for doing it that way, but matters of the heart were entirely different, especially after everything that had happened with a certain Garlean general. “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

Moenbryda went quiet for a few moments, resuming their pace in finding the corrupted crystal marked on their map. All that was exchanged now between them were their footfalls on the dirt and the occasional kick of a stone or brush against a dry bush. 

Meanwhile, Carine’s mind was anything but quiet. There were questions she wanted to ask, things she needed to know that helped Moen and Urianger keep such a lasting connection. How did they continue a relationship when they were constantly separated? How often did they communicate? Were there trust issues? She didn’t think there would be a reason to worry that Haurchefant would be anything but faithful to her, given how dedicated he was whenever she was around  _ before _ she kissed him, but what if she were called away for a year? Or more? 

“H-how do you do it?” she finally asked, no longer able to take the path her mind was heading.

“Hmm? You’ll have to be more specific.”

Carine sighed and gathered up her courage and dignity. Here she was, the mighty Warrior of Light, asking for relationship advice. “You and Urianger. I know the two of you are close,” she said. “But I knew nothing of you, and I have known him for a year.”

A small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “You could know him a lifetime and you would never truly  _ know _ him,” she replied. “And there are things he keeps closer to his heart than his stellar personality.”

Carine didn’t have to fear that, not when it came to Haurchefant. She would have much more trouble trying to convince him to keep it secret than to shout it from the top of the Observatorium for all of Coerthas and Eorzea to hear. 

“Do you not worry for him? Or vice versa? How can you stand to be away from him for so long?” 

“The answers you seek aren’t something I can tell you,” Moenbryda explained. “‘Tis something you come together and find on your own. Love is...a compromise…” her voice grew distant, almost pained as she stopped walking once again. “It makes no sense and often...it hurts. You find more questions than answers when you discover it, I’m afraid.”

There was something in the way the Roegadyn spoke that made Carine wonder what compromises she had to make when caring for a man like the ever stoic and poetic Urianger. She imagined there were many as there was little he seemed to care for other than dusty tomes. In the entire year she had known him, save the one failed lesson attempt, Carine knew nothing about him and even then it was that he had not the patience to teach someone who struggled with magic. He rarely spoke to her, though he was kind and considerate when she spoke to him. 

Moenbryda was the opposite. While she clearly shared a passion for pursuing knowledge with him, she was outgoing and loud. Her presence filled an entire room whereas he was content to sit in the shadows. The axe she carried was also an outward expression of her personality. There wasn’t a problem that she wouldn’t face head on while he would presume to sit back and learn before making a move. 

‘Twas a great wonder to Carine how the two came to be.

“What I can tell you is this,” Moen went on, interrupting her chain of thought. “Cherish every moment you have with him. Do not hesitate to give your all or you will face a lifetime of regrets.”

“I find it difficult to imagine you holding back any sort of feelings,” Carine grinned, taking the words to heart. 

“Oh, you thought right. When I saw him for the first time in that study sitting there with nothing but his books because he couldn’t quite make an attempt to make friends, I knew I would be the one to break him out of his shell,” Moenbryda told her. “I-didn’t quite manage to do that, but we became best friends. When my heart found favor in his oddness, I listened. Life is too short to think about the what-ifs.”

Her words resonated with the Warrior of Light, planting their seeds deep within her heart to give her enough to contemplate for a lifetime. She tried to reason that there was a difference between them. Her and Urianger were scholars, after all, not warriors chosen by a goddess to look out and protect an entire realm. They chose this life, whereas Carine had that decision made for her. But in the end, there was no reason to doubt the woman’s wisdom. Clearly the two of them had faced their own trials and there was no question in her mind that the couple still cared immensely for each other, if only in their own way.

“You never feared losing him? Even after you discovered what happened with Bahamut?” Carine asked. It was not lost upon her that there were great risks in allowing herself to love the Elezen lord. He was a knight, after all, not a scholar. He fought for the greater good of his people like she fought for the greater good of all Eorzea. 

“Of course I did, and still do,” her friend replied. “‘Tis dangerous business fighting against an enemy such as the Ascians, but I wouldn’t trade what Urianger and I have for a life without. Even if something were to happen to him today, I would still have our memories to cherish rather than wonder what might have been.”

As deep and meaningful as she had been, Carine was still unsure she felt settled by it. If she had perished that day at Snowcloak, would Haurchefant had been able to look back on their time together with fondness? It almost made her wish that she had kissed him sooner.

“Ah! I do believe I see our target,” Moenbryda exclaimed, trotting off towards a shining crystal just up ahead. The Elezen wanted to shout at her for rushing forth without looking to make sure there wasn’t a nesting basilisk nearby, but her warning was lost on the wind as the Roegadyn wasted no time drawing her axe and hacking through one of the beasts. 

“Ah, well, I see you have everything taken care of. Remind me why I had to come along again?” she teased, watching as the Roe dusted off her clothes and bent to examine the orange and blue crystal jutting up from the ground. 

“I know, I know...Urianger never tires of telling me that ‘the axe ill becometh the hands of a scholar’,” Moen replied, mimicking the Elezen with a spot on impression. “But I  _ like _ axes. They are quick and efficient and they have never once stopped me from picking up the quill and learning.”

“Hm, well I find them large and bulky and entirely too heavy,” Carine pointed out, setting herself on a nearby rock to watch the woman work and keep an eye out for peckish basilisks and intruding Garleans. “I mean, I can use one if I have to...but I much prefer the art of archery.”

The conversation died as Moenbryda set to work testing the aetherical fields and sturdiness of the crystal she would try to draw upon. Carine was content to sit and listen to her tinkering while examining her special arrows. Being a bodyguard was hardly on her list of favorite things to do as a Warrior of Light, but she found it most tolerable when it came to being around her newest friend. She clearly had enough skill to protect herself, making this job a breeze for the stressed Warrior of Light.

“Ah that ought to do it.” Moenbryda stood up and pointed her instrument towards the crystal, drawing upon its aether. It hummed and glowed, shining brighter than it had before as it interacted with the device in her hands. “It worked!”

Carine smiled at her friend and shook her head at her excitement. While this was nothing that she understood, it made the woman incredibly happy. “What now?”

“With a few refinements, this siphon should work to satisfy our appetite for aether. Forging a blade in which to concentrate that aether is another matter entirely,” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how to go about that just yet, but I’m sure Urianger will find a way.”

Carine was just about to reply with something to tease the Roe when her skin pricked, raising the hair at the base of her neck. The sense of dread and despair returned, stronger than it had when Elidibus had waltzed in through the front door of the Rising Stones. She turned, drawing her bow and nocking a paralyzing arrow, releasing it into seemingly empty air. 

“What is it?” Moen asked, drawing her axe and looking around for whatever it was the Warrior of Light had sensed. 

“Ah so you sense me. What a useful talent,” a dissonant voice whispered around them. The air began to distort, gathering purple and black clouds of darkness together in a churning mass until a figure cloaked in the black robes of the Ascian materialized before them.

“An Ascian?” Moenbryda exclaimed softly. “Do you think they are onto us?”

He chuckled, turning his face from the Warrior of Light to the Roegadyn with passing interest. “I see you bear the mark of an Archon of Sharlayan, a Seeker of Truth. Meddler.”

Moenbryda growled, furrowing her brow and gripping her axe in her hands. “Funny, I seem to think the same about you.”

His lips quirked into a menacing smile, though it was barely seen from under the red mask that dominated his face. “Come now, do not be unsettled by my account. That lovely brow was not meant for a frown.” His nasally, bored tone grated on Carine’s nerves, making her fingers twitch with the desire to release another arrow even if she knew he would just avoid it. As if the Ascian could sense her desire to run him through, he turned to her. “We meet at last, Warrior of Light. I am Nabriales.”

“Should that mean something to me?” she asked, training her next arrow on him. Though they didn’t have a blade of aether to destroy him, there was likely enough aether they could draw from to apprehend or weaken him for the time being if only Moenbryda would pick up on her train of thought.

The Roegadyn had a mind of her own as she rushed forward, heaving her axe through the air and bringing it down upon Nabriales with as much force as she could muster. She gasped as the Ascian caught the deadly axes just ilms from his face with a single hand. Carine looked on helplessly as he summoned forth his power, building and concentrating it where they were connected with hardly enough effort to sweat his brow. With a smirk, he blasted the woman through the air, sending her flailing hard into the crystal they had just been drawing aether from. 

“Elidibus was correct in that the laws of this world differ from those he once knew,” Nabriales dusted his hands off as if touching the axe had dirtied them. “You bore witness that I merely acted in self defense, did you not?” He turned to Carine and folded his arms over his chest. 

“If only your threatening presence in this world weren’t a testament otherwise,” she countered with narrowed eyes. He may not have outright attacked them, but his presence here was not of a peaceful nature unlike Elidibus’ and she was growing rather tired of their trickery with words. “I will give you the chance. Either you can depart of your own free will or I could allow you to suffer the pain of dying. I can’t imagine ‘tis pleasant, even if you aren’t truly dead.”

His jaw clenched, confirming her suspicions. So the Ascians did not enjoy death anymore than anyone else. If that were so, she would gladly ensure they experienced it every time one of them dared showed their masked faces in her presence. 

But then his expression changed. From anger rose curiosity and from curiosity rose surprise. Where he had shown hesitation in acting, he now stepped forward boldly, looking at Carine as if he were seeing her now for the first time. “What is this? How is it that I no longer sense the Blessing of Light within you?”

The color drained from her face. So their abilities ranged beyond teleporting where they willed and having a form of immortality that was a thorn in the Scions’ side. She hadn’t expected him to sense anything strange about her, and when did he sense the light within her to begin with?

“Oh this is grand!” He clapped his hands together and grinned, “I did not foresee that the frail Hydaelyn would forget Her champion. Shorn of Her light as you are, you are no longer a threat and the seal is now broken. ‘Tis time I quit this place and set out for the staff…”

Before Carine could loose another arrow into him, the Ascian was gone in a puff of smoke. She growled out in anger, cursing herself for not being quicker before turning around to find Moenbryda picking herself up off the ground. 

“Bugger that,” she groaned, allowing Carine to held her to her feet. “What did that bastard want with us.”

Carine shook her head. “I am unsure. The bright side is, he was not aware of our plan. ‘Twas almost as if he wished to meet me.”

“With charm like that, I bet you were swooning,” the Roe grumbled as she reached for her axe. 

The Elezen chuckled and handed her the siphon that had also been abandoned on the ground. “Do you know anything about a seal?” she asked. “He said something about it being broken and then something about a staff...what would be so important he would run off and leave a weak Warrior of Light?”

“‘Tis a question I would like the answer to as well. It had him grinning like a bastard on his nameday. It must be quite the...oh bugger.”

Carine turned to look at the Roe, whose eyes had gone wide in her head and dread filling them as she met her gaze. “What is it?”

“Tupsimati! He means to go after Master Louisoix’s staff!” 

“Wait, you mean that broken relic in the solar?” Carine frowned. She could hardly see how something shattered beyond repair could be something the Ascians might want for themselves. ‘Twas just that, a relic that was no longer useful. 

Already Moenbryda had started pulling together her aether to teleport elsewhere, ignoring Carine’s question completely as panic took over. “Minfilia’s in danger, we must return to the Rising Stones.”

The Warrior of Light blinked, and the Roegadyn was gone.


	31. When the Moon Wanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I understand now...why Louisoix did what he did,” she said. “And I pray that you heed my words from earlier. Do not waste any time. Do not live with regret.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I must give a warning. When I originally set out to write this fic, it was going to be broken into two parts. That didn't end up happening...so I was unable to tag the "minor character death" as part of this particular fic. So, it is there now...though I worry that this character may have evolved into a major character. For those reading, please help me by suggesting the appropriate tag. It is not my intention to bait readers in and then throw something that might otherwise turn them off from a fic (though I am sure those of you familiar with the canon knows this story is very canon AU by now). 
> 
> So...apologies in advance!

The scene that greeted Carine the moment she stepped into the Rising Stones was like something out of a nightmare. Moenbryda stood before her with her back towards the door, her axe in hand while Minfilia stood at her desk desperately clutching the staff in question to her chest. Between the two of them was Nabriales.His hand was outstretched, frozen in time as the Warrior of Light entered, alerting him to her presence. 

“You came!” Minfilia cried out, hope in her voice though there was still a tangible fear in her eyes as she looked between the two that were her rescuers. “I knew you would!”

“So you were able to divine my intent. What will you do now, Warrior of Light?” He asked without so much as turning around to face her. “Ah, but that name no longer suits you, does it? Thus you are decidedly dull and incapable of defeating me, or keeping me from my prize, for that matter.”

“If you think me so incapable, why not turn around and face me, hmm? Or are you afraid I will do to you as I did to Lahabrea?” Carine  growled, drawing her bow. 

Nabriales sighed and pinched his brow. “If you knew the power I am capable of, you would not be so quick to challenge me. Besides, I have more important things to worry about than battling a former champion of the weak goddess.”

Minfilia clutched the broken staff head to her chest more tightly, keeping it as far from his grasp as she possibly could. It did little good, for Carine watched as the Ascian dissipated into thin air and materialize in the cushioned chair behind her desk. “Why now?” she asked, turning around. 

Nabriales rested his head on his hand, watching them curiously. “You do not know? How interesting,” he said more to himself than to them. “How little you understand of the Blessing of Light and the protection it had granted you until it had been so foolishly lost. It was the only thing keeping you and your fellow meddlers safe from my kind.”

“I seem to recall that the Ascian in the white robe entered in the Rising Stones just fine before,” Moenbryda pointed out. “Carine had the Blessing then.”

“But Elidibus and Lahabrea were of this world, therefore the rules did not so strictly apply to them,” he replied cryptically, dematerializing once again only to appear at Minfilia’s side. “Rules that no longer apply to the rest of us. ‘Tis great fortune that I was the first to discover this lovely little secret.”

His hand reached for Tupsimati, but Minfilia turned away, pulling it from his grasp at the last moment. Though Carine had ever been slightly put off by the antecedent’s lack of discipline to fight their battles, she couldn’t help but to admire the woman when faced with an adversary that was clearly more powerful than she. That didn’t stop her from the fear that Minfilia would do something foolish that would end with her losing her life, or worse, being taken to a place where the Warrior of Light would be unable to follow. 

“Come now, antecedent. Do not make this harder for you than it has to be. You have but to give me the staff so that I might bring about the next rejoining and take my place at Zodiark’s right hand,” he taunted her with a curl of his lips. 

Ever resilient, the Highlander shook her head and denied him again. “The staff is nothing but a broken relic, a memorial to the departed. What use could you have of it?”

The Ascian’s head snapped up and he frowned, “You mean to tell me all this time that you have held the key and knew not the power you possessed?” His voice turned into a snarl as if he could not believe them to be so daft. 

Carine’s fingers clutched at her bow. If they could keep him distracted long enough, she might be able to place her exploding arrow just right to drop him right there and end this madness. She had to bide her time, wait to make sure his mind wasn’t at all trained on her, knowing that she was likely still the biggest threat in the room. “Why not enlighten us some more? You seem quite prone to it,” she offered, hoping it would do the trick. If there was one thing the power hungry loved to do, it was boast about how much more power they could have. A shame it often distracted them to their demise. Not.

“The staff, or rather the stone it bears, has the ability to draw upon vast quantities of aether surrounding the person wielding it,” he obliged, falling for her bait like a jackal to poisoned dodo meat. “How else do you think your master was able to lay waste to the great and powerful Elder Primal without the use of a plethora of crystals?” His gaze turned back to Minfilia and the staff she held. “Summoning does not only require prayer, but vast quantities of aether. Even a child knows that. For all the scholars in your employ, ‘tis amazing you did not come to this conclusion on your own.”

Minfilia set her lips into a thin line, her knuckles white from gripping the broken relic in her hands as she bravely, and foolishly, lifted her chin to face the Ascian. “If I knew not before, I can assure you I know now. I also know that I cannot allow you to have this staff. I would die before I let you take it!”

Carine prayed to the Twelve that her friend had not just uttered those words for her benefit. Fear clutched at her heart and choked her as her hands trembled and continued to wait for their moment. Worry replaced the bravery she once had as now Minfilia’s very life seemed to hang in a delicate balance that the Ascian very well could control. 

“Insufferable woman. I would happily end your very life right here and now-” Nabriales dryly began. 

It was then that Moenbryda could no longer hold herself back as she hurled herself headlong into danger. “You will not harm her!” she cried, leaping into the air and making to cleave her axe through him with all the force she could gather. He turned so quick, Carine wasn’t sure he hadn’t already been facing the Roegadyn, prepared for her attack. A beam of energy shot forth from his hands, piercing through the woman with such force that it sent her backwards and into the wall. She watched with wide eyes as blood began to spill from the wound created, seeping into the cracks of the stone that lay around her. 

“Moenbryda!” Minfilia cried out, losing all reason as she rushed forward to try and aid her fallen friend. Carine, torn between waiting to rescue the antecedent or try and save Moen, stood her ground with her weapon lowered. 

The moment was now gone. 

“How many times must I put you in your place? Do you ever learn?” he sneered, grasping the back of Minfilia’s harness to prevent her from going to far from his reach. “How quickly I forget my words fall upon deaf ears.”

“Do not harm her, Nabriales. I am warning you,” Carine trembled, emotion wavering her voice. 

He tilted his head in her direction, his hooded gaze sending chills down her spine. It no longer mattered, however, Carine was determined to end him in whatever way she must. He had already hurt her friend and he threatened now to hurt Minfilia and his very existence put all of Eorzea at risk. 

But Nabriales was unbothered. As he looked upon Carine, he conjured a cloud of darkness behind him, pushing the antecedent through without so much as looking. “I bid thee farewell, Warrior of... _ nothing.” _

As he disappeared into the portal, the Elezen looked to Moenbryda on the floor who had gone unnaturally pale. Carine had not the magic or the skill to help her now, even if she could be helped. “I’m sorry, my friend,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her face. The Roe smiled back and waved her on, urging her to go though the words would not come. 

Before she stepped through the portal, Carine sent out a distress call to the other Scions, specifically Y’shtola. It was all she had time for before the darkness swallowed her up. 

 

If she had thought the snow and ice was cold in Coerthas, wherever this realm was put it all to shame as she felt herself pulled from Eorzea to the darkness between. She seemed to be standing on some sort of platform surrounded by thrones on all sides. Pitch black, seemingly unending space stretched on behind them, above them and below them in every direction she looked. The chill creeped up her spine as she looked around. There weren’t many places the Ascian could hide, at least not here, but it was impossible to tell if he hadn’t just moved on somewhere else, trapping her here for an eternity. 

“And here I thought the lovely woman you so carelessly left behind was the foolish one,” Nabriales’ nasally voice echoed all around her and yet nowhere at all. “Did you truly think you could come here and defeat me in mine own realm?”

“Well…” she turned around, looking every which way to try and pinpoint his exact location. It was difficult because the presence of the Ascians surrounded her, warping her sensitivity to finding them. “I figured since I had done it with the Cloud of Darkness, might as well try with you.”

The crushing despair grew stronger, her chest aching with each breath. He was unhappy with her reply. A shame. As she looked up towards the head of the platform, Carine’s eyes fell upon Minfilia being suspended in the air by harsh manacles of magic that burned and cut into her skin. Blood trickled down her arms as she struggled, her eyes large with fright as she met Carine’s searching gaze.

This had to be some sort of shrine, some sort of gathering point the Ascians met at. To her rear were two large metal doors, the metal beams intricately woven into a design Carine did not yet know. Twisted, grey spires stood at its side and pierced the darkness overhead. To the front, where Minfilia was hanging, was a tall structure that reached even higher than the doors.It looked the part of a star with the metal beams reaching out in all directions from a glowing, purple center that pulsed like that of a heartbeat. 

But still there was no Ascian in sight. Oh, she could feel him staring at her, his triumph writ on his features knowing that he would bear the victory this day, but from which throne he sat, she hadn’t a clue. 

_ Hear...Feel...Think… _

The words were nothing but a whispered memory of the goddess Herself, but Carine found comfort in them now as she closed her eyes and felt everything around her, concentrating primarily upon his essence. It was something she had been able to do since first feeling Lahabrea and a gift she had used to chase the Ascian back in Ul’dah. In light of that memory, the Warrior of Light focused on that feeling, following it until she could pinpoint him on the sidelines. 

Taking advantage of the surprise, Carine nocked one of her arrows and began shooting at the opposite side from which he sat, directing his attention to her carefully configured pattern. “I’ll find you eventually, Nabriales,” she taunted, firing the one by one. 

“A daft one, aren’t you?” his voice drooled over her and made her grimace as she continued. “Do you really think I cannot just move to one of the seats you have already so foolishly wasted your weapon on?”

She smirked knowing full well he couldn’t see her with her back facing him. Mentally she counted down, pausing as if his words hit home. He was grinning, she could feel that through the air about him, but so was she. “Ah, well then...to save us the trouble…” 

Carine twisted, loosing one of the exploding arrows so quickly that it had been impossible for the smug Ascian to have guessed what her intent had been. Not knowing what her weapon was capable of, the arrogant bastard stupidly reached to grasp it in midair only for it to explode in his face on contact. His howl of pain planted a smile on her face as he was thrown from his seat and down on her level. 

“You clever wench,” he spat, dematerializing, but she was already attuned to his presence. She unleashed another one, never quite directly aiming at him and never in the same place. If she couldn’t rely on the Blessing of Light to end this battle, she would depend on her wit and ability to adapt and overcome. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” she smiled sweetly, nocking her last exploding arrow. “I thought I was no longer a  _ threat.” _

He had grown use to her tricks with the explosions and easily avoided the last, watching it swallowed by the darkness of space. “You aren’t. Do you think the only one capable of adaptation is you?”

She shrugged, twisting another arrow in her fingers. “I don’t know, I suppose that depends,” she replied, throwing the arrow from the short distance between them. It had been a slower action, just enough to distract him as she pulled another from her back and aimed it where she felt him beginning to form again. 

Her aim was true, striking him in the chest and completely immobilizing him, giving her enough time to pull her favorite daggers from her boots and facing him head on. “Did you see that coming?” she whispered into his ear, careful not to touch him unless it was the bottom of her boot.

He roared at the insult, but he could not move as the paralyzing arrow kept him in place. Carine didn’t have long until it wore off, but even then she was already prepared with her blades at the ready. The moment the charge died she attacked with a quick flurry of swipes the incapacitated Ascian couldn’t hope to defend himself against. She cut through his armor, sliced at his skin, bloodied him with each swipe of her blades and she did not stop as her fury soon consumed her. 

“This is for Minfilia!” she cried, swinging her leg around to kick him square in the jaw and send him staggering to the ground. “This is for bringing her here,” she placed her boot on his chest, pinning him to the ground. “And this? This is for hurting Moenbryda!” 

Her steel licked the exposed skin of his neck, opening it so that his blood would spill onto the platform on which they had battled. Her chest heaved with exhaustion as she stood to her full height and wiped the sweat from her brow. He was dead, or as dead as she could make him for now, which left her getting out of this place. 

“Carine!” The Elezen turned and watched as Minfilia rushed towards her, opening her arms just in time to catch the woman as they collided. “You did it!”

Still out of breath, she couldn’t form the words to agree, only nodding her head as she looked around for a way to escape. As if by some miracle, another portal formed, showing them the inside of the solar. Minfilia did not hesitate and quickly disappeared inside while Carine turned to see Elidibus sitting on one of the thrones, waving at her with a smile that sent a shiver down her spine. 

_ Now what sort of twisted game is he playing at? _ Carine thought to herself as she departed from that cold, black world. Why would he allow her to fight and kill one of his own in their own world and watch? Had the overwhelming presence of the Ascians meant the others had been watching too? It made little sense, but there wasn’t time to ponder as the rift soon disappeared shortly after she walked through, leaving behind the dead body of Nabriales at her feet. 

Minfilia was already on the ground, her leather breeches soaked with Moenbryda’s blood as she cradled the woman’s hands in her arms. “Have the others not yet come for you?” she gasped, tears in her voice as she looked at the damage. 

“Y-you were gone but a moment…” the Roe coughed, wincing at the action. “I just watched her walk through.”

“I-I called for them, I swear,” Carine said, dropping to her knees and calling upon her magic. This was above anything she was capable of healing, but she would be damned if she wouldn’t try. Light flowed from her fingertips, burning away the impurities that were likely running through Moen’s blood, cleansing it as best she could until Y’shtola could get there and mend her with her superior skills. “It will be alright, I’ll make it so!”

But the sudden fear in Moenbryda’s eyes caused both Minfilia and Carine to turn in unison to see the body of Nabriales dissipate into nothingness only to reappear with him made whole. A desperate cry escaped Minfilia as she courageously placed herself between her wounded friend and the enraged Ascian. 

“You fool!” he shouted before lifting his lips into a menacing snarl. “You  _ dare _ think you could destroy me?  _ I am eternal!” _

In the moment Carine was lost at what else she could do, Minfilia reached for the white auracite offered to her from Moen’s bloody hand. She lifted it in the air and using her aether, directed it at Nabriales. It was impossible for him to resist being trapped in the stone, his cries and pleads falling on deaf ears as he was forced to disperse and become entrapped. 

Remembering his words of what Tupsimati was supposedly capable of doing, Carine scrambled on the ground and reached for the broken staff, thrusting it up into the air and praying to the Twelve they would grant her this. Power surged around her, making her hair rise and skin prickle with all its promise. It whispered its siren song, promising her anything and everything her heart could desire. Flashes of images came unbidden, Haurchefant, a wedding, their children…peace everlasting threatened to persuade her from her path as the aether collected around her. 

With an angry shout, Carine cast out those images, focusing everything she had on destroying the lifeforce trapped within the white auracite. A beam of pure, white energy burst forth, encasing the stone and pulsing stronger with each moment she held on. She watched with bated breath, waiting for Nabriales to be no more, hoping beyond reason that this would be the last she would hear of him. 

But his nasally voice sneered at her, berating her as time waned on. It simply wasn’t enough and he knew it. All he had to do was bide his time and wait until his temporary prison weakened and he could make his escape. 

“Why won’t it work? Is it because we lack the Blessing of Light?” Minfilia clutched at her chest, her hope faltering. “Please Mother Hydaelyn! Harken to our plea and lend us your divine light,” she prayed, closing her eyes while Carine struggled to stay on her feet. The immense amount of aether made her dizzy, its effects on the air making her motion sick. 

But nothing happened. There was no surge of power, no Blessing of Light. No words from the Mother Crystal in the wake of her daughter’s plea. 

“Why can’t you hear us?” Minfilia’s voice cracked, her tone desperate and insecure as she looked to Carine for answers the Elezen could not give. Motion from the corner of her eye turned her attention to Moenbryda, who had somehow managed to rise to her feet and stagger towards her, reaching out though her pain threatened to send her back to the ground.

Step by painful step, the Roegadyn struggled, fighting against her fleeting life to reach the current of aether directed at the Ascian. There was a softness in her expression, a sense of peace as she looked to Carine and forced a smile. 

“I understand now...why Louisoix did what he did,” she said. “And I pray that you heed my words from earlier. Do not waste any time. Do not live with regret.”

“Moen? What are you doing?” Minfilia asked, unable to join her on the other side of the beam. 

“Farewell my friends.” A single tear slid from the corner of her pale eyes, trailing its way down her cheek until it dripped from her chin. “And farewell Urianger...you daft old coot. How I will miss you…”

Her hand reached forward, melting in with the beam of light. Carine’s eyes felt as though they would pop out from her head, her screams unheard as the Roegadyn added her lifeforce to the aether pulsing at the white auracite. Minfilia’s mouth opened as she fell to her knees, her arms hugging her chest while sobbing and praying and begging to Hydaelyn to hear their pleas. 

One last, powerful surge of energy, and Moenbryda was no more. 

The white auracite fell to the floor, the trapped soul within smited by the power of Moenbryda’s sacrifice. A roaring silence followed, both women too shocked at what had happened before them to make a sound. Tupsimati soon clattered to the rug, Carine’s strength to even hold it now long gone as her eyes stared at the place where Moenbryda had last been.

She was gone.

And it was all her fault.

Silently Minfilia rose to her feet and walked towards the place where the siphon lay. Her fingers grasped the hilt, picking it off the floor and holding it in sorrow. “You did it, my friend. He-he is dead…” she whispered, tears pouring from her eyes as she held it dear. 

Carine stood stoically, eyes unseeing as the last moments of Moenbryda’s life played over and over in her mind. The calm serenity, it was the same look she had witnessed with G’raha Tia before he chose to sleep eternally within the Crystal Tower, the same determination and peace in knowing they were doing what they had always been meant to do.

But Moenbryda never should have been meant for this. This could not have been Hydaelyn’s will that one of Her own have to sacrifice themselves in the name of Light. That was what Carine was for, to be Her weapon to smite those that would see them harm. She had failed. Completely and utterly failed.  

The door burst open, the other Scions pouring in at once. 

“What is it? What has happened?” Yda asked, her fists at the ready to attack whatever it was threatening them. 

“We were surveying in Northern Thanalan when we received the distress call. We came as soon as we were able,” Papalymo said upon entering the room.

“Are you alright?” Thancred asked, rushing to Minfilia’s side and looking her over. His eyes widened as they beheld the damage to her wrists and the blood that coated her arms and breeches. “Y’shtola! Here, now!”

The Miqo’te wasted no time upon hearing his panicked words, pulling her wand from her side and summoning forth her healing magic. “What happened here?” she asked, looking over Carine next and finding nothing amiss. “Where is Moenbryda?”

The Warrior of Light winced upon hearing the name, her fingers clenching so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. She did not feel the bite of pain, not when her heart was breaking and her mind lost. 

Minfilia, ever the poised and collected woman she was, was unable to hide her tears as she explained to them what had happened. Carine couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to see their pain and worry and despair as their gasps were enough to reopen the throbbing wound in her heart. Instead, her mind was on Urianger, the lone scholar and the only Scion that did not yet know the fate of his childhood friend and lover. 

Her heart broke for him more than it did the others. They had lost a dear friend, but he had lost something more. She had been the reason he had joined the Circle of Knowing, she had been the reason he could call these people around him friends. And now, she was gone. 

All because Carine couldn’t bother to keep her snide remarks to herself.

_ “‘Tis the burden thou must beareth,” _ Midgardsormr spoke. While it was surprising, there was far too much grief for her to worry. Even then, no one else seemed to notice as they hugged each other and offered what comfort they could in the wake of this tragedy. 

She turned to see a small dragon flapping his wings and looking upon the scene before him, his reptilian eyes blank of emotion.  _ “Lessons are oft hard learned,” _ he added, turning his small head towards her. 

_ She didn’t have to die to teach me to hold my tongue and think. I did that well enough on my own when fighting him, _ Carine thought acidly, glaring at the tiny creature. It couldn’t have really been him, it was too small and weak, taunting her to take her anger and frustration out on it for being an easy target. She wouldn’t fall for it, not now, not after everything.

_ “Thou art correct. She did not perish simply from thine actions,” _ he nodded, looking back towards the others.  _ “But thou must also learneth loss.” _

The Warrior of Light gritted her teeth, her actions quicker than her mind as she turned to strike the dragon in air only to find that he had disappeared. 

_ “Thou still hast much to learn,” _ his deep voice rumbled in her head, reminding her that he was always watching. Fine, let him watch. She didn’t care. She would not allow there to be a day that came where this would leave her unfeeling and numb, Carine wouldn’t allow it. 

And then Urianger walked in. The soft murmurs of the Scions disappeared as each of them turned their heads and looked upon the Elezen in sorrow. The guilt within Carine was too much to bear as she tore her eyes from him, clenching them shut and willing away the flood of tears. 

“Urianger...there is something I must tell you…” Minfilia spoke softly, grief still clinging to her words as she reached for her friend. 

“I’ve heard all, my lady,” he replied. His voice wavered as he tried to hold back the wave of emotions behind his stoic nature. Carine pinched her eyes shut harder, heart throbbing at the sound of sorrow as he continued. “The moon sinketh, taking her leave of the heavens and yet…” 

Somehow Carine could feel his eyes upon her, but she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze in fear of what she might find. 

“And yet her passing heraldeth the coming of a new day. Moenbryda hath fulfilled her destiny, hath she not?”

“She had,” Minfilia nodded. 

“Oh, Moenbryda...my dearest...how I will  _ miss _ thee,” he smiled sadly finding some small comfort that this had been by her will. “My lady, I would mourn Moenbryda in mine own way. I beg your permission for leave.”

“Of course, my friend. Take all the time you require. We shall be here should you have need of us.”

The Elezen did not waste his time turning on his heels and walking out the door. The loss of his presence was felt upon them all, his grief clinging to Carine and mixing with her own. She could not bear one more moment of being surrounded by the emotion, could not bear another moment in her mind as she also turned to Minfilia. 

“I shall ask the same as he.” Her voice cracked from disuse, her mouth dry. “I would like time to...be away from all of this…”

Minfilia looked upon her in anguish, her eyes pleading. While Urianger was used to being alone, Carine always had someone she could lean on. “Will you be going to your mother then?”

The Elezen shook her head. If she went home she would be surrounded by a shrine of her lost sister, and inevitably her mother would mention it to her, refreshing one of Carine’s other biggest failures in the wake of this most recent tragedy. The worst thing was that Elaine wouldn’t know she had reopened the wound, making her eldest daughter blame herself again and again for something she could not yet fix. 

No, she needed to go somewhere else. She needed  _ someone _ else. 

Without another word she left them there wondering where she would disappear to, weaving her magic to disperse her into the aetherical sea, searching for the bite of cold that would take her mind off the pain in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now...now I am deciding if I need to take a small break and collect myself from what happened in this chapter (I have cried...many times...) or hop straight into the fluff that is following. We shall find out soon enough.
> 
> And I'm so terribly sorry D: Moen was the best...my favorite Scion. I should strive to write a fix it fic that keeps her alive as she damn well deserves!


	32. Beautiful Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And for one night I held her, my hands running through her hair. I broke through her resilient barriers. She was my beautiful disaster_
> 
> \- Beautiful Disaster by Lost Autumn

Haurchefant skimmed the lines of the letter intended for his father, detailing everything he knew in regards to Iceheart and her intent on summoning Shiva. It hadn’t been much when he had first sat down in the study, considering that Carine had left before he or Ser Aymeric could glean anymore information out of her, but thankfully Minfilia had been prepared by sending a written report not three bells ago.

Satisfied that it would answer most any question Count Edmont de Fortemps would ask, he rolled the letter and sealed it with wax. Ser Aymeric was waiting for him in the main hall, holding off on his departure until morning so he could deliver the scroll to the count himself before taking his own account to the archbishop. The lord commander smirked at him, eyes glinting as Haurchefant descended the stairs and handed the letter to him. 

“I heard the Warrior of Light stopped by before she left.”

The memory of her lips upon his burned, the satisfaction at finally having kissed her and the promise she would return as soon as she was able throbbed at his heart. “She did.”

“I have a few more minutes before Lucia is expecting-” Aymeric began, interrupted by the main hall doors opening. The two of them turned in unison, Haurchefant’s heart stopping within his chest at the sight of Carine strolling through. His lips curled into a wide smile, arms already beginning to spread wide to accept her, but the Warrior of Light bypassed him completely, her eyes set for the stairs which she took two at a time. 

Smile fading, he looked to his friend whose brow was writ with concern. “Were you expecting her back so soon?” he asked. 

“No, not at all,” he worried. It had been almost ten bells since they had departed. It was late into the evening, a time when she  _ should _ be resting rather than travelling. “If you wouldn’t mind to wait a few moments?”

He was already well on his way to the stairs when Aymeric waved him on. His immediate thought was to check her room.  It was where she had stored a good many of her clothes for when she had to stay at Camp Dragonhead nearly a month ago, but when he opened the room he found it dark, cold, and empty. 

_ I’m going to have to keep a fire going at all times if she keeps arriving unannounced, _ he smiled to himself as he closed the door and pondered where else she might go. Curiosity got the best of him as he turned to the door beside hers, slightly ajar as if someone had recently gone through and forgot to pull it behind them. 

He knocked, a silly thing to do as it was  _ his _ room, after all, but he had been raised a gentleman and if a lady wished for peace and quiet, even in his own quarters, he would gladly give it to her. There was no reply, so he slowly opened the door and let himself in. 

The only source of light was the diffuse glow of the moonlight through the window, illuminating the figure that sat with her arms around her legs and knees tucked under her chin. The dark embers of the dim fireplace were nothing compared to the light of the moon shining upon her or the way it reflected itself in a white halo around her. 

Gods, there was nothing more beautiful to him than moonlight in her hair. 

He shut the door behind him and she jumped as if she had not heard him come in. The wide-eyed stare and fright gave him pause. It was difficult to tell in the darkness what expression she wore, now that the source of light was behind her, but he could sense something was amiss. Maybe it was the way she stood silently across the room, maybe it was the way her hands twisted before her in that way they did when she was nervous, maybe he didn’t really know what was different or wrong.

Then she was running to him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him with such ferocity he forgot how to breathe. All he could feel were her hands grasping at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as if he weren’t close enough, her lips crushing against his own. There was a desperation there, a desire unfulfilled. 

Haurchefant soon forgot that anything was amiss as he wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace, welcoming her warmth and heat and radiance. Her touch sent sparks to his very soul, coaxing a desperate moan from him as her tongue traced the seam of his mouth. He could no more deny her access than he could control the reaction his body had as the taste of her exploded against his tongue. He yearned for more, yet resolved to slide his hand down the curve of her waist while the other tugged at the red ribbon holding her hair in a braid. 

She kissed her way along his jaw, lips whispering against his ear, “Make love to me?”

_ Oh gods… _

He pulled away from her in a rush though every fiber in his being demanded he comply with such an innocent, heartfelt request. Oh he wanted to take her, lay her down upon his bed and worship her for the woman she was. He wanted her hands caressing his back and his name a sigh on her lips. Gods, he wanted her wrapped around him any way she would allow it.

But the stream of tears falling from her amethyst eyes stopped him in his tracks. 

“Carine? What’s wrong? Gods, did I do something?” he worried, frantically taking her head in his hands.

“Please...please I just-I can’t-” more tears fell and her lips trembled. “I need to forget, please just help me forget…”

Forget? What was she talking about? Had Nero made his appearance again? Surely that would be an explanation for her sudden distress. “What happened?”

But Carine pulled away and went back to the window, wiping her tears with the heel of her palms. The glow of the moon basked her in a new light, a forlorn angel with eyes filled with such sorrow it made him ache. How had he missed it before? How had he not seen the sadness that now left streaks down her face. What had caused her such despair?

“There was an attack by an Ascian at the Rising Stones,” she finally said, her voice flat and colorless, devoid of the emotion he knew she was suppressing. “Moenbryda is dead.”

Fury take him, how could he have been so  _ blind?  _ “And the others?”

“They’re fine.”

“Carine...I-”

“Please don’t. ‘Tis my fault.”

Her fault? How in Seven Hells could the death of a friend be  _ her _ fault? Especially when it concerned an Ascian? He wanted to tell her, wanted to make her understand, but he knew not what had happened and doubted she would tell it without the lies she had convinced herself of believing. 

Instead he walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, offering whatever comfort he could. She was a statue, a beautiful, broken statue that had weathered more storms than he could begin to count, and she was finally falling apart. He kissed her cheek and pressed his head against hers. 

“Go ahead and cry, Carine. Let it out.”

Stubbornly she shook her head, her arms tensing around his. “I cannot…”

Oh, how he understood. As a knight that had only ever known war against the dragons that plagued Ishgard, Haurchefant had lost countless friends over the years. It was to be expected and they had been trained to mourn in silence. Giving into emotion was weakness, and weakness could be exploited, but there was only so much tragedy one could hold before their cup overflowed.  

“You have nothing to fear here, Carine,” he kissed her cheek. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

His words cracked the surface, chipping it little by little until her lips trembled and eyes filled with tears. Haurchefant could feel the resistance, her will to hold it together because she thought she had to, but the wave of emotions she had been desperately holding back were too strong and she was left with no choice but to let go.

There was a rawness to her grief, a sorrow that echoed wordlessly as she gripped tightly to him for support. Her body shook with the weight of her sobs as she finally allowed herself to mourn the way she needed to. It came upon her in waves, like the ebb and flow of the sea. One moment it would be calm, serene sniffles and the next it would be a powerful storm howling around them.

And yet he never let her go. He stood like a lighthouse on the ocean, beckoning patiently to her through it all and guiding her back to shore. 

 

Haurchefant had just put her to bed when there was a hurried knock at his door. Hesitantly he looked back at Carine, limp with exhaustion from the weight of her grief and already nearly asleep, before answering it. Unsurprisingly Ser Aymeric was the one standing there, his blue eyes peering in. Innocent an action as it was, Haurchefant blocked his view to spare Carine’s dignity before exiting the room to see what the lord had to say.

“I just received word from the Rising Stones…”

“Yes, she informed me they had lost one of their own,” he replied in a hushed tone. “She blames herself…” he added as an afterthought. 

Aymeric dropped his eyes and nodded, the knowledge of grief well known to him as well. “I hereby grant you leave of your post,” he said, surprising the Elezen lord. “I shall send for your brother to take your place under my guidance until the Warrior of Light has had time to mourn.”

“My lord...that is unnecessary-”

“Do not make me reconsider this generous offer,” the lord commander smiled, blue eyes softening with understanding. “She needs you, and Eorzea needs her. At least give it thought tonight,” he went on. “I shall await your decision until the morrow.”

Haurchefant returned to his room to hear the soft snores now coming from his bed. Carine lay curled under a mountain of blankets, her cheeks splotched red and eyes swollen from crying. Deciding to leave her be, he turned his attention to the dying fireplace, adding kindling and logs to last them through the night as he contemplated what to do with his leave. The cold winds of Coerthas were hardly comforting, and the nearly constant clouds overhead would do nothing but keep hold of her depression. 

Carine needed somewhere warm and bright and colorful. Someplace where she could relax and rest and still be hidden from the rest of the world. Somewhere like...he paused and looked up at the painting above his bed. 

Yes. That was  _ exactly _ what she needed!


	33. Cannonball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Love I always kept my distance and then you came around. The fortress I built on an island breaking down into the waters below._
> 
> _My eyes closed, I'm losing hold._
> 
> _Catch me dear I'm falling, my walls are coming down. Piece by piece take me now._
> 
> _From the moment that our lips met, my defense is all but gone_
> 
> _We collide and explode like a cannonball..._ \- Cannonball, The Sweeplings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! Have some tooth rotting fluff. I'm just going to hug my pillow now <3
> 
> And seriously, check out the song in the summary. It's so perfect and definitely a mood for this chapter :)

“Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Haurchefant was his usual, chipper self as he sat beside Carine in their carriage with his hand in hers while she was decidedly worried. 

For starters, as long as she had known the man, he had never left Coerthas and had implied that he  _ couldn’t _ thanks to the war against the dravanians. She distinctly remembered about where he wished to travel and why he could not do so being discussed not long after they had met. For them to be traveling through the Central Shroud at this very moment had her nerves on edge. 

Secondly, she  _ prayed _ that this was not some impromptu voyage to meet her mother. Carine cared deeply for Haurchefant, she wouldn’t deny that, but with everything that had gone on in just the past few weeks, she had failed to mention having feelings for anyone. If they just showed up and he introduced himself as...whatever he was to Elaine, she would be shocked speechless and he would likely get his feelings hurt that she never thought to mention him in the first place. 

Which brought out another problem. They had only kissed just a few times with last night being rather uncharacteristic of her. Not once had they sat down and discussed what they were. Was he courting her? Were they lovers even if they had not yet, er, slept together? Were they still just friends on opposite sides of a blurred line? Carine didn’t know, but whatever they were, apparently it was close enough for a surprise vacation. 

Lastly, she wasn’t even in the mood to go anywhere. Curling up by the fireplace, or beside him, with a cup of cocoa had been her idea of dealing with the loss that still sent her into crying fits from time to time. Who wanted to be surrounded by other people when they never knew if or when the waterworks would begin again? And last she knew, Carine was not a pretty crier. 

But Haurchefant remained secretive, not even dropping so much as a hint to where they were going other than to try and pack cooler clothes. Literally everywhere else in Eorzea was warmer than Coerthas, so that narrowed it down to absolutely nothing. 

“You aren’t trying to meet my mother, are you?” she finally allowed herself to worry aloud. 

“Not yet, no,” he winked. “There will be another time for that.” 

He was so confident and sure of himself with his quirked lip and twinkling eyes. Clearly he was enjoying this immensely, and not just at her expense. Every little thing caught his eye and he would point it out to her in childlike wonder. The tall trees of the Twelveswood had him leaning out of the carriage to see their canopies and he stopped the carriage more than once so he could walk barefooted in the grass. 

Gods, what she would give to see the world in such color at the moment. 

Thanks to Haurchefant’s constant slowing down to smell the flowers (quite literally at times), it took almost half a day to get to the airship landing in Gridania. This had been a turn of events that Carine had not expected as he helped her out of the carriage. Ever the gentleman he was, he grabbed their bags, leaving her to only worry about the numerous wildflowers he had picked along the way to board the ship. 

A hushed whisper so low she couldn’t hear it, and the captain had them in the air. 

“Can you tell me now?”

“My dear! What happened to patience being a virtue?” he grinned, giving her cheek a quick peck before taking the flowers he had collected from her hands. “Question; do you trust me?”

She sighed, “I do.”

“Then trust that where we are going, you will enjoy. No one to bother you, no one to follow you. Just a place for you and I to get away.”

She had little choice but to believe his words and have faith that he knew what he was doing and where he was going, though she  _ had _ wished he would have consulted with her first. Heavens knew that she had done her fair share of traveling before and she knew the best ways to bargain for the best deals as well as some of the best places to get away to. 

“Do you feel better?” Haurchefant asked after several long moments of silence between them. 

Did she? Not really, no. She wasn’t crying anymore which she supposed was an improvement, but there was still an ache deep in her chest that left her feeling empty and sick all at the same time. 

“A little,” she replied. “Thank you...for taking care of me last night,” she added a moment later, realizing she hadn’t said the words to him since she woke up in his bed this morning. 

Thanks to her arriving unannounced and far quicker than he had expected, Haurchefant had been forced to give up his room. Again. But not before Carine had recklessly thrown herself at him in a desperately foolish attempt to get him to fuck away her pain. 

Blessed Nophica, how was she ever  _ not _ going to be mortified thinking back on that? Had it been any other man, any other person, she doubted they would have hesitated to take advantage of her vulnerable state. Not Haurchefant. Never him. 

“I am here whenever you need me,” his hand squeezed her own. “Always.”

His honesty brought a small smile to her lips and she leaned against him to rest her head on his shoulder. Silvery-blue hair tickled her face in the wind as the airship cut through the air, wafting the rich, creamy scent of him that always brought a sense of comfort. 

Another few minutes went by before he spoke again. “Question,” he began, his smooth voice lacking in the confidence from earlier. Instead he sounded nervous, hesitant. “Was she the first person you lost?”

The ache within her deepened, the memories of Moenbryda’s reassuring smile as she plunged her hand into the aether flashing in her mind. For a moment, Carine thought she would be ill, but steady breathing calmed her stomach and helped clear her mind. 

“No, she wasn’t. I-I suppose she won’t be the last either,” she replied. 

Silence followed, hanging heavily between them with all the questions he wished to ask her and all the answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to give. Haurchefant never pried, never asked more than she was willing to answer. He allowed her the silence to think and reflect, almost as if he knew the question wouldn’t have kept her mind on Moenbryda, but to think about the others. 

“I lost my Papa when I was seven.” Her words surprised her, spilling forth from her lips though she didn’t remember thinking about him. “He was a simple carpenter that enjoyed making furniture when I was growing up. I would follow him out to his shop and help him. Not sure how much help I was, I only handed him tools, but he always said I was the best assistant he ever had.

“You know, he made me my first bow and taught me how to use it. He wasn’t very good, but he knew the basics enough to get me started. Said one day I was going to be the best archer Eorzea had ever seen. I believed him, every word of it. He was why I practiced every day behind the little cottage he built with his own hands,” she reminiscenced, her voice trailing away with the memories she kept closest to her heart. 

“You wouldn’t have known we were poor. I didn’t even know. Papa made everything from the house to the tables to the couches and beds. He built our toys and the stable and the fence for the garden. Mama made all our clothes. And gods, they loved each other…” Carine smiled and gripped Haurchefant’s hand. “Mama would be singing in the kitchen, cooking our dinner and he would sweep in all dusty from working with wood and sing with her, spinning her around like she was a princess at a ball…

“But then one day there was an Ixal attack. We had all been out in the garden, Mama showing me what vegetables were ripe for the picking even though I was more interested in playing with Violaine in the dirt. Papa was working on something when we heard the shouts…” her fingers clenched, heart throbbing once again. “Papa made us all go into the house while he went to help the Wood Wailers. He...he never made it back.”

Haurchefant had grown still though his eyes were full of understanding. “He sounds like a courageous man. ‘Tis little wonder where you got it from.”

Carine couldn’t help but chuckle as tears streamed down her face. “Mama always said I got my stubbornness and eagerness to help others from him. All I remember is seeing her that afternoon when the Wood Wailers returned to give her the news...you have to understand, until that point in my life, I had  _ never _ seen my mother cry. It seems silly that a child would think it their duty to protect the family then, but seeing her so weak and helpless...I never wanted her to feel that way again. It’s why I fought a bunch of Garleans when my sister was drafted and why...why I agreed to work for them when it was clear my mother would have been harmed otherwise.”

“She is very lucky to have you.”

“More like the other way around. My Mama is the strongest, bravest, most selfless woman I know. She only ever cried just that day, my guess because she had to be strong for Violaine and I. I don’t know how she did it, I can’t even stop crying over Moenbryda and I did not know her nearly as long as my mother knew my father.”

His fingers were at her chin, tilting her face up to his so that she could gaze into the glacial blue of his eyes and admire the soft curve of his lips. Her eyes closed as he gently kissed her, his thumb wiping away the stray tear that now streaked down her face. “You’re doing fine, my dearest.”

Somehow, despite everything aching inside of her, she believed him. 

 

***

 

It was late afternoon when they had arrived at their destination. Never in a million years had Carine expected that he had planned to transport her all the way across Eorzea to the white beaches of Costa del Sol. 

Haurchefant made her wait for him near the aetheryte there while he went to do...whatever else it was he had planned for her, giving her a moment to just close her eyes and soak in the soothing warmth of the sinking sun. Almost all her worries were washed away by the briny sea breeze and the gentle percussion of the waves on the sandy shore. Deep shades of reds and oranges bled into a blue and purple horizon, painting the clear waters of the ocean an almost mirror image of the sky. 

_ Oh Moen...if only you could see this right now… _

“Here we are!” Haurchefant interrupted her train of thought as he wrapped something around her face, blocking her eyes. 

“Um, isn’t that what you’re supposed to say after we arrive?” she arched brow, stubbornly standing her ground as he tied it in a knot around her head.

“Then I’ll just have to say it again when we get there.” Carine could hear the grin on his voice and feel the familiar curve of his lips as he pecked her cheek and took her hands. “Trust me?”

“Always.”

Saying the words and putting her full faith in the mischievous lord that was likely to pull her into the ocean on a whim were two different things entirely. Step by careful step she allowed him to guide her up wooden steps and across wooden planks, the sounds of the waves growing louder and louder until she was confident they were somewhere above the water. All the while he cautioned her and praised her and kissed her cheeks just because she couldn’t avoid it and because she couldn’t avoid the smile it beckoned from her lips. 

“Okay, this time, we really are here,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her to a stop. His fingers deftly worked the knot behind her head, letting the fabric fall from her eyes to reveal a small, intimate bungalow situated over the waters of Costa del Sol. 

White curtains drifted in the breeze, offering glimpses of the intimate setting within the structure. Haurchefant went to the door and opened it, but before she could take another step to follow him inside, the Elezen lord had swept her off her feet and carried her in bridal style over the threshold. 

And he didn’t stop there, for he appeared content to give her a full tour of the bungalow from the comfort of his strong arms. 

“A small kitchen here, but we won’t be needing that as I have arranged for the best dishes to be brought to us,” he explained with such excitement Carine began to wonder if this was all for her or if it was a wish fulfillment of his own. “And a sitting room, but I have every intention of spending all day on the beach if I possibly can,” he went on, swinging her around for the briefest glimpse of a lounge and two chairs woven from wood. A small, round table made of the same material sat in front of them, and it looked as if there might have been a bookshelf, it was difficult to tell when one was being whirled around.

“Last, but not least, the bedroom,” he grinned dropping her onto the largest bed she had ever seen, complete with pristine white blankets and towels folded to look like a carbuncle. “Well, maybe not last, there is a washroom just through that door I do believe.”

Carine stared up at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused on the small, round chandelier with its aether crystals giving off a soft glow. She was at a loss for words at his generosity and the eagerness at which he had done this for her. When was the last time anyone had taken control and just allowed her to enjoy the ride? Certainly not since Nero, and even then he only ever did things for her that would come as a benefit to himself.

Haurchefant disappeared, leaving her alone with her thoughts only to come back and drop their bags on the floor before plopping down beside her. “Do you like it?”

Carine turned and captured his hopeful gaze. Nothing was more important to him right now, in this moment, than to please her...and the notion nearly had her heart bursting into a thousand pieces.

“Like it? Haurchefant, I  _ love _ it,” she whispered, fingers tracing the sharp outline of his jaw. “What have I done to deserve all of this?”

He grinned almost wickedly as he shifted over onto his back and held out his hand, counting on his fingers one by one. “You have found and defeated Halone knows how many Primals, killed Gaius van Baelsar and chased off the Garleans, took out a weapon designed to destroy civilizations, feed refugees in your spare time and killed an Ascian. Why would you have to question what you have done to deserve a simple getaway when there is not a person alive that can claim the same things?” he asked. “Not to mention how incredibly  _ sexy _ you look dressed in full armor and wielding a sword and shield like ‘tis nothing but child’s play. Just imagining you dressed in nothing but one of those string bikinis while thrusting-”

Carine elbowed him hard in the arm, earning a bark of laughter. “You and your imagination better watch it,” she warned, though there was no malice to her words. She was glad he wasn’t treating her as though she were some fragile thing though he had witnessed her complete breakdown last night. It made her feel...well...normal.

“Oh! How could I have forgotten!” He quickly jumped up from the bed and dashed out of the room. Carine sat up, curiously listening to him open and close cabinet doors wondering what he had up his sleeve this time. She could hardly afford anymore meaningful surprises when now all she wanted to do was show him her appreciation. 

How she was going to be able to top a surprise getaway to a tropical paradise, she hadn’t a clue.

He returned just a few minutes later, two wine glasses in hand and a bottle with a smile on his face. He handed her one of them and set the other on a small table next to the bed so that he could open the cork and pour her a glass of the deep red liquid. 

“What are we celebrating?” she asked, watching him pour a glass for himself. 

“Anything and everything we wish to,” Haurchefant beamed, holding his glass out in a mock toast. “To those we both have lost and to those we might yet save.”

“To Moenbryda,” Carine lifted her own glass, clinking it delicately against his.

“To Moenbryda,” he echoed. “And your father. Would that I could have met the man that influenced the incredible woman you have become.”

Tears blurred her vision at the sweetness of his words, their glasses clinking together once again before they brought the wine to their lips and sipped. Bold sweetness coated her tongue, sliding smoothly like rich velvet over her lips. She swallowed, licking away all the traces and allowed herself another, bigger sip, savoring every drop. 

“Is it alright?” he asked, watching her every move intently. If she didn’t know any better...wait, who was she kidding? Of  _ course _ he was watching the way her tongue flicked over her lips and the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed another drink. He was practically drooling as she allowed herself to peek at him from behind her lashes. 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes and letting out a soft, contented sigh. “I needed this.”

He chuckled, taking another drink from his own glass before setting it on the table and then reaching for hers. Reluctantly she let it go, pouting even as she watched him set it aside so that he could offer his hands and lift her to her feet. As her body came in contact with his, he slid one hand down her waist while keeping the other interlocked with hers and slowly began to move. 

It took a few breaths to realize he was  _ dancing _ with her, right there in the middle of their private bungalow as the moonlight began to pour in through the open windows. Embarrassment creeped into her cheeks as the poor Warrior of Light had no idea how to dance at all.

“Er-Haurchefant? Shouldn’t there be, uh, music?” she stuttered, wondering if it might change his mind or at least send him off to the other room where there may or may not have been an orchestrion so that she might drain the last of her wine to gather more courage. 

In response to her question, the ridiculous man began to hum decidedly off key in time with their swaying. No rhythm. No tune. Nothing but mindless humming that was both endearing and slightly off-putting. She stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking her head. “Maybe you weren’t so wrong. Dancing without music isn’t terrible.”

Haurchefant grinned wickedly against her finger. “It seems we are made for each other, my dear. I cannot sing and you cannot seem to stop stepping on my toes.”

Her own smiled faded abruptly, earning a chuckle from him as he kissed her finger.  _ Oh Blessed Nophica, please tell me he’s joking! _ She thought as she looked down. He hadn’t shown any pain, hadn’t complained at all...how could she have been sure…?

“How about we compromise?” he said, tilting her face to meet his once more. “You sing for us, and I’ll lead, hm?”

“I...suppose that is fair,” she admitted, relaxing once again to let him pull her in so their heads might rest against each other. “Anything in particular you wish?”

“Anything you choose will be perfect.”

Carine gave it much thought for a few minutes before she began to hum a lullaby her mother had sung to both her and Violaine as children. He caught on quickly to the rhythm, guiding her effortlessly around the room while holding her close, cherishing her in a way she had never been cherished by anyone. 

She didn’t know how long they danced, or how many songs she sang for him before she began to yawn. Even he seemed exhausted, his breath coming in deep, even breaths against her neck as they soon slowed to a halt. As much as she hated to pull away, she was growing too tired to stay on her feet, and they both still needed to change.

Haurchefant allowed her to have the washroom so that she could change in privacy while he stayed in the main room to don something more comfortable for sleeping. She took her time unbraiding her hair and brushing the soft waves and then rinsing her face in the sink before making sure he was done so she could come out. Of course, exiting the washroom made her acutely aware of a glaring problem she somehow had missed since arriving.

There was only one bed. 

“Not to worry, dear heart,” he crooned as if reading her mind. “The lounge is plenty big enough for me.”

Carine doubted that. It might suit some Midlander woman, or a female Au’Ra, or a Miqo’te, but it simply couldn’t sustain a long, lean Elezen comfortably. 

“I’m shorter than you, you can have the bed,” she offered. “Besides, you did all of this for me. ‘Twould be wrong if I took the bed as well…”

But he wouldn’t hear it. Ignoring her protests, Haurchefant reached over and grabbed one of the pillows and took it with him to the couch, fluffing it up and plopping himself down. “Perfectly comfortable! See?”

“Liar.”

“Goodnight, Carine. Sleep well,” his arm lifted up, waving to her as if it weren’t highly unusual for a man to be cramped on a couch while a woman had the entirety of what looked to be three of her beds made into one massive bed in sight of where he lay. 

Funny how just yesterday she had said fuck propriety when now she was nervous about the sudden intimacy of the situation. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been wrapped around her, both of them practically naked, before. Why should this development bother her at all? And it wasn’t as if the bed were so small they would be on top of each other...though that gave her an entirely new reason to blush.

“Goodnight…” she answered back, sliding under the covers and trying to rest. 

It was futile, Carine soon learned. Every few minutes she would hear Haurchefant shift and turn and groan. He’d fluff his pillow and then flop, or sigh and yawn that she couldn’t do anything besides listen to him. How was she supposed to rest knowing he, the man that had made all of this possible, was uncomfortable?

“Question,” she called out, knowing full well he was still wide awake even if he went completely still at hearing her voice. “Are you comfortable?”

“I will be soon. It just takes some...adjustments, that’s all.”

“Right, of course,” she smirked. “You know, there is plenty of room in this bed.”

“I wouldn’t wish to impose upon your privacy.”

Now Carine snorted. “Oh, of course not. ‘Tis not like you weren’t hugging me almost naked in Whitebrim Front or anything.”

“I only did that to save your life!” he gasped. “I would  _ never-” _

“Will you shut up and just join me?” she ordered, surprising herself with her tone. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so...demanding. “Please?”

“Are you sure?”

_ No, not all, but I like being close to you, _ she thought. “One hundred percent.”

Silence followed for several moments before she heard him get off the couch and pad his way over to her. A few moments more and she felt the dip in the bed as he climbed in. Carine rolled over, admiring the sharp angles of his face in the glow of the moon and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Hey,” she whispered, seeking his hand under the blankets. 

“Hey.” His fingers laced with hers. 

“Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” he smiled, eyes growing heavy as the bed offered easy comfort the lounge had not. 

_ Only if they are of you... _ Carine thought, allowing her eyes to close as exhaustion claimed her, dragging her down into the depths of darkness she no longer feared with Haurchefant by her side.


	34. Falling (Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You are the only one, the only one that sees me, trust me and believes me.  
>  You are the only one, the only one that knows me and in the dark you show me,  
> It's perfectly reckless. Damn, you leave me defenseless...  
> So break in..._
> 
> _-Break in by Halestorm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not changing the rating on this fic because out of nearly 200k words, this is the only one with really explicit content. So be warned.

Carine sighed in content, eyes closing as long fingers combed through the waves of her hair. She was convinced there was nothing more relaxing than sitting in the shade with her toes buried in the sand, back against Haurchefant’s chest, and him braiding her hair with the flowers he found the day before. The constant lapping of the water on the shore, the gulls in the air, and wind through the leaves of the palms served only to sing her into an early afternoon nap. 

Could this get anymore perfect?

“Another glass?” Haurchefant asked, tantalizingly tilting the unfinished wine bottle from the night before in front of her face. 

She hummed her appreciation as he poured the sweet liquid and brought it to her lips. It seemed she had been corrected. It  _ could _ get better. 

The night before had been the most romantic experience of her life. Dancing in the moonlight, holding hands as they fell asleep, waking up with her back pressed against him and his arms wrapped around her had far exceeded her experience with being kissed in the rain. It was like living in a fairytale, a warm, tropical fairytale where bad shit didn’t happen and good people didn’t die.

And it had only gotten better as time went on. Haurchefant had ordered a complete breakfast, which Carine eagerly helped herself to, and then they had walked along the beach to collect some shells. When lunchtime had rolled around, he ordered a picnic basket that they could take to a private beach where the two of them wouldn’t likely be disturbed. 

“What’s on your mind,” he asked her, kissing her cheek as he tied off the end of her hair. It had become something so natural between them, gentle cheek kisses and feather light touches. She couldn’t help but smile at the sensation as she enjoyed it so. 

“I’m thinking you are incredibly talented and I wish to know where you learned to braid hair like that.”

As innocent a thought it had been, his reaction implied that it bore more weight than Carine could have known. His body tensed behind her, hands pausing their gentle glide up her arms. “I, ah, used to braid my mother’s hair when I was a boy…” he replied, almost reluctantly. 

She wanted to kick herself. There were few topics of conversation Haurchefant avoided, his upbringing being chief among them. It was all understandable given the standards of Ishgardian society. To hear her mother tell it, highborn ladies that became pregnant before they were to be wed were either hurried along to avoid too much speculation or, as in her case, disowned entirely if the father of the child was a lowborn. Noblemen, on the other hand, could get away with more. Female servants employed under a nobleman often fell pregnant and most turned a blind eye if the child bore a strong resemblance to the nobleman, though they had no issue  _ gossiping _ about such matters. 

From what Carine had gathered, Haurchefant’s father had owned up to his transgressions and accepted him enough to raise him alongside his legitimate children. Her knowledge on his childhood, it seemed, ended there.

“Haurchefant...you don’t have to-”

“You remind me so very much of her,” he said, pulling her closer and resting his head against hers, voice going reverent. “What she lacked in physical strength she made up for with her spirit. She was so beautiful and vibrant, ‘tis little wonder my father loved her so.”

Carine listened, holding her breath lest she break this small, intimate moment. And yet she reveled in it. To be compared to a woman that he obviously loved very much and admired was a compliment that had the Warrior of Light soaring. Sure, being praised for being strong and whatever for killing Primals was great, but to be compared to someone so important in Haurchefant’s life? That was on another level. 

“So he did love her?” she offered, weaving her fingers with his and praying to Nophica he would continue on. 

Since when had she wanted to know everything about him so fervently?

“Aye, so he claims. Once upon a time…” he nodded. “But alas, Ishgardians do not marry for love, only for power. ‘Twas why he had chosen to marry my step-mother rather than chase his heart, though I suppose he loved her too. In his own way. Much like he loves me.”

“What happened to her?” The question slipped before she could catch it and she winced. 

“She continued serving House Fortemps for several years, despite the disdain my step-mother had for her. I was still quite young when she left to spare my father the speculation and rumor, not that it did much good. She was allowed to visit with me from time to time, opting to have me live with him as he could provide a better life.” He surprised her with his honesty and forwardness, though it was clear there was a great sadness behind the memory. “She...lost her life not long after the Calamity. Winters had always been hard on her, but the constant cold that cursed Coerthas stole away her strength until there was nothing left.”

“Haurchefant...I am so sor-”

His entire hand covered her mouth, muffling her condolences. “Mayhap we should speak of happier things, yes? ‘Tis entirely too warm here and the sea looks quite inviting.”

Before Carine could protest, or at least make sure he was truly alright with leaving the subject alone, he was to his feet and bounding towards the crystal waters. One impish look thrown at her from over his shoulder decided that he was quite alright, and the Warrior of Light hurried to her feet to chase after him. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon running around the little cove, playing tag and splashing water at each other. Haurchefant even decided that a race to one of the small sandbanks further out to sea was in order. Carine won, naturally thanks to the strength granted to her by the Echo, but not by much. Her reward? A heated kiss on the sands that left her breathless.

When they returned to shore, the two of them collapsed from exertion under the shade of the palm tree. Lost loved ones and worries forgotten, fingers tangled as the two ignored the heat in favor of curling next to each other for a late afternoon nap.

Carine woke to a world of sepia as the sun’s descent painted the horizon in vibrant reds and oranges. Haurchefant’s fingers trailed meticulously up and down her spine, somehow arousing gooseflesh to raise on her arms and legs. Sleepily she turned to look at him…

Only to promptly burst into an uncontrolled fit of giggles. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, touching his face and wincing as the sand that clung to his fingers grazed his skin. 

“Y-you’re so red!” Carine snorted, picking herself off him in favor of getting a better assessment of the damages done. “Everywhere, apparently.”

Haurchefant glanced down his body, wide-eyed and grinning like a boy. He poked the red flesh, watching the white mark left fade back to the bright red that flushed his exposed skin. “Well, won’t you look at that! I couldn’t tell you the last time I experienced sunburn.”

She supposed he wouldn’t have, given that for the past six years Coerthas had been blanketed with snow and shrouded with clouds. “Here, let’s go to the water and get you healed up.”

“‘Tis no trouble, my dear. I can hardly feel it.”

“Oh but you will,” she assured him. “Once that sun has set and darkness falls, your skin will burn with the sun’s fire if I don’t at least help a little.”

To be honest, Carine had no idea if she could heal a sunburn. It hadn’t been something she had ever thought to try or had to now that she thought about it, but she was also painfully aware of just how much they hurt once they set in. He hissed as the salty water lapped at his skin, further proving her point. 

She dipped her hands into the water and smoothed it over his flesh, concentrating on the healing spells she knew so far and focusing them over his body. Well,  _ trying _ to focus them on his body. Up until this point, Carine hadn’t been quite so liberal with touching him. Hells, she hadn’t even  _ thought _ about it until now...as his gloriously sculpted back was facing her in the setting sun in a tropical paradise.

_ Halone knew what she was doing when she imagined you... _ she thought to herself, carefully ghosting her fingers along the muscular planes on his back. Years of sword fighting had made the man a sight to behold, as she recalled from earlier that morning when he had walked out of the washroom in nothing but small coeurl briefs. Oh, it had been hilarious to see him strutting around in the tiny things that left nothing to the imagination...but it had also granted her a full view of the man beneath the armor and fur that kept him warm. 

And now her hands were working themselves over each muscle and memorizing every dip and curve, mouth practically watering because he freely allowed her to touch him. 

Blessed Nophica, she wanted to  _ keep _ touching him. 

So she did. Carine gladly helped herself to walking around him and taking in the sight of his glorious chest and defined abs from his years of training as a knight. She repeated the process by carefully running her hands over every exposed inch of skin, focusing her healing magic as best she were able until she had no mana left to call upon. 

Haurchefant hummed, pleased with the outcome as he looked down his chest and over his arms. “Extraordinary! You are incredibly gifted, my dear.”

“You should have met my sister,” she shrugged. “She always excelled at conjury. I swear she had been born with a green thumb and a wand, though Mama begs to differ.”

She had just barely finished her sentence when the Elezen lord caught her mouth with a kiss, taking her by surprise with his boldness. While chaste kisses had become almost a given in anything they did, soft, sensual,  _ deep _ kisses had been few and far between. 

He wouldn’t hear a complaint from her, however, as she found she quite liked kissing him.  He was soft and gentle, but also playful and curious as he swiped his inquisitive tongue across her lips. There was no hesitation from her as she granted him access with a small, muffled moan as he indulged himself the pleasure of exploring the depths of her mouth. 

Sparks shot through her body, stirring feelings and desires that had been long put to rest since the night she had left Nero. It was enough of a shock to feel herself respond in such a way that she broke the kiss in a gasp.

“Too much?” Haurchefant asked breathlessly, aquiline nose pressed against her cheek. “Do you wish for me not to?”

Was it? Did she? Hells, she hadn’t a clue. Were they moving too fast? Time said maybe but her heart said fuck time as she looked into the blue depths of earnest eyes. He loved her. Carine felt it deep in her bones as sure as she saw it there when he looked at her with concern. He didn’t have to say the words to make it true, not when he had wished to risk life and limb to follow her to Lady Iceheart and then brave the rumors and speculation that had surely spread in the wake of him warming her from the battle with Shiva.

And if she were honest with herself, she loved him too, but what had she done to show it?

“Mayhap we should head back to the bungalow? ‘Twill be dark soon…” she offered, curling her fingers against his. Haurchefant must have misinterpreted what she had meant by her request, for his face fell a brief moment before he agreed. 

It didn’t take them too long to arrive back at their little cottage, though twilight had fallen over the world around them basking it in shades of blue. Carine rushed to the outdoor shower unit to rinse the sand and salt from her body as best she could while Haurchefant waited patiently. She wasn’t inclined to taking this brief shower alone, however, and curled her finger to have him join her with a devilish smile.

“I need help with my back,” she offered, turning around. “Mind?”

 

Haurchefant did, indeed, mind. He minded because having her hands all over his back and chest earlier had him wishing to pin her against the side of the bungalow and make her his this very moment. He minded because the taste of her lips, even flavored with seasalt, had his blood boiling inside him. He minded because he knew just one long pull of the tantalizing strings dangling from her back and neck would have her chest exposed to the air.

And he had no right to be thinking any of it.

But, like the fool he was and would always be, he obliged her. Desperately he ignored the twitching in his briefs from seeing her rinsing in the water. He tried to think of anything else other than the smooth curve of her waist into a full hip, but Halone help him, she was making it impossible. When he finally touched her, she pushed herself decidedly against him and pressed the curve of her ass exactly where she  _ shouldn’t. _

The minx was taunting him.

And, by Fury, if he didn’t love it. 

Still, he strove to be ever the gentleman and kept his hands in mostly appropriate areas. It was one thing to cuddle their scantily clad bodies together for a nap on the beach, but it was quite another to brazenly touch out of want and desire. He didn’t wish to do anything she might dislike or that might scare her off, not when he had come to love her as he did. 

When the salt and sand had been washed away, Carine turned her attention to him, helping as he had helped her. Haurchefant closed his eyes and kept his hands down at his sides to keep from wrapping her in his arms and stealing her away to bed. The chill of the shower did nothing for his apparent arousal as her hands slid along his body. He decided there was no greater feeling in all the world than her hands on his back and chest and sides, their cautious venturing over territory she did not yet know though it seemed she wished to. 

She shut off the shower before he had the chance to ask. 

Fingers entwined, she guided him back to the cottage with a smirk. He knew not what she had planned for him, but he found himself hoping that it included more of this bold and shameless touching. 

The last night of the full moon still provided enough light for the two of them to see by, but that wasn’t enough for Carine as she powered on the aether crystals to illuminate the bedroom. Apparently, while they had been gone all day, someone had stopped by and made the bed, adding in some fresh towels now shaped like the Colibri birds that he had seen all over in the trees surrounding their little hut. Carine bent to look through her bag, no doubt searching for fresh clothes to change into after a real bath...but Haurchefant hadn’t noticed because her heart shaped ass had captivated his entire attention. 

To his very unfortunate luck, she had caught him in the act. 

“Like what you see, do you?” she smirked. 

There was no point in denying her, she had caught him fully appreciating her physique. So he owned it, closing the distance between them and capturing her chin in his hand. “Very much so.”

“Oh…” she breathed, surprised at his audacious response. 

Haurchefant kissed her, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of her lips and the way her body pressed against his oh so willingly. Twelve preserve him, she was perfection. Everything about her lit his nerves on fire, burning him from the inside out. She was the sun and he but a small planet caught in her orbit drifting ever closer the longer he stayed near her. He pulled away and pointed her in the direction of the washroom. “You better go, my dear. I cannot promise to behave myself much longer if you linger.”

Large, wide eyes stared up at him, glassy and surprised. Silently she nodded and walked toward the door. Brazenly he watched her and that seductive swing of her hip when he noticed she had forgotten her clothes on the floor. He scooped them up and turned to hand them to her when he stopped dead in his tracks and swallowed. 

Carine pulled on the ribbon holding her hair in his elaborate braid, pulling her fingers through the hair and letting the wilted flowers fall from its waves. The effect her silver tresses had on him as they brushed along her back was immediate and uncomfortable...in the sense that now his small briefs were entirely  _ too _ small. But she was not done. With one slow pull of a black string, she undid the top to her swimwear right there in front of him. 

Oh, he couldn’t see anything, which he supposed was the point in her little act of seduction. Her back was to him, her eyes peeking over her shoulder, and her hand dropping the little black top to the floor in a way that practically told him to join her. When he found he was unable to move, the minx  _ winked _ at him and disappeared behind the door. 

Fury take him, it was as if all his namedays had come at once. 

He knew not how long he had before she came out of the washroom, but given the poor state of her silver hair after a full day of sun and sand and sea water, he imagined he had enough time to run to the main office and back before she was done. Haurchefant didn’t even bother to put any other clothes on as he bounded out the door and ran, hoping to get there before the office closed.

 

Carine took her time in the overlarge tub partially because she was waiting for her hesitant lord to join her, partially because her hair was a complete disaster. As sweet as it had been that Haurchefant had chosen to weave flowers in her hair, she knew she would be spending the next half a bell getting all their stems and leaves and petals out of the silver waves. 

That, and it felt good to soak in the warm waters. The scented oils mixed with the heat provided relaxation and a chance to think and reflect and plan. Her risky action in removing her top right there in front of him had taken more courage than she imagined it would. She wasn’t ashamed or nervous by her body. Hells, if Nero had found appreciation in it, then she must’ve been beautiful to some degree, and given that Haurchefant had been ogling her ass right before she chose to take a bath made it clear  _ he _ found something arousing in her too, but it was the act of sex that had her heart pounding. 

And not just sex, but sex with Haurchefant. 

Nero had conditioned her, whether intentionally or unintentionally to melt at the sound of her name on his lips. He had worked on her confidence, showed her there was nothing to be ashamed of in her desire, but he had  _ commanded _ it from her by playing her body like she played a harp. It was easy with him, she reflected, because he knew what he was doing and enjoyed her submission.

Haurchefant did not seem to want submission. He wanted a partnership, a give and take. Everything she did, he reciprocated immediately. If she reached for his hand in comfort, he would remember and give it freely the next time. When he kissed her lips, it wasn’t to dominate, but to savor and share. When he touched her, it wasn’t to gain control, but to worship and admire. 

And Carine had absolutely no experience in such a relationship and no idea what to expect from him when she came out of the washroom. 

When she was done bathing, she took her time brushing her hair. It had seemed a grand idea to leave her clothes on the floor for him to find and make her intentions known, but now she stood staring at her naked figure with all her scars on display. Her collection was her own, something she was proud of at the end of every day, but now it mocked her because who would find a scar-ridden warrior sexy or sensual at all?

_ You know, you have the worst habit of acting without thinking. ‘Tis little wonder the stench of haste clings to you, _ she scolded herself as she wrapped a towel around her body and turned off the light and left the room.

Carine had to blink several times and wonder what happened to the room she had left behind only half a bell before. The lights were off, but the windows were wide open to let in as much of the moonlight as possible, revealing the large bed with its white sheets covered in soft rose petals. 

“Haurchefant?” she called, wondering where he had disappeared to when she heard him just outside where the shower was. A few moments more and he was in the room, his hair dripping wet and a white towel clinging to his hips. “Um...what is all this?”

Breathless though he was from his mad dash around the bungalow, it didn’t stop him from crossing the room and pulling her in for a deep kiss. “I wanted this to be perfect.”

Words and worries were lost by the sudden surge of love Carine had for him. Tears blurred her vision as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him fervently. Gods she loved him, loved him more than she thought she could love anyone. She loved him more than she even loved herself. 

“Make love to me?” she asked, this time her mind free of grief and guilt and pain. His lips curled into a smile against her own, his thumb brushing away the one stray tear that had leaked down her face. 

“Gladly.”

 

Carine didn’t stop him as he pulled at her towel and let the cotton pool around her feet. She didn’t stop him as he pulled her closer into the moonlight to allow its diffuse glow upon her skin so that he might freely look upon her and admire her beauty. 

And gods was she beautiful. 

There was nothing more bewitching than her naked form in the moonlight. She stood before him without shame, though there was a vulnerability in her eyes. A vulnerability only she shared with him. That he should be so privileged to see her bare was a gift he knew not how to reciprocate. 

Haurchefant reached for her hands and noticed the sharp inhale of her breath at the touch. Unashamed as she was to be bare before him, the Warrior of Light was, indeed, nervous. Keeping his eyes upon hers, he pulled her in and gently kissed her lips in assurance. “On the bed love,” he whispered against her ear.

Carine complied, drifting slowly away from him and laying back on the pristine white sheets. He joined her, carefully positioning himself at her side, and began to trace his fingers along her neck. As they happened upon a grooved scar in her shoulder, she twitched and clenched her jaw. “Uh...sorry about the scars,” she apologized without looking at him. “I-I like to keep them. Memories of battles fought...a collection, if you will. Reminders of what I have managed to survive.”

His heart swelled within his chest and he leaned over to place a lingering kiss upon the one he found. “I like them.”

“You do?”

Haurchefant nodded, capturing her gaze so she would know the truth of his words. He had bore witness to them the night he had warmed her from Shiva’s ice, and though he wondered why she would wish to keep them, he found them strangely captivating and beautiful. All because they were a part of her. “Very much so.”

The effect of his reassurance was immediate as she relaxed, so he returned to kiss the scar while one hand trailed along her skin until it found another. He kissed that one too. One by one she named them off. The one on her shoulder had been granted to her by an Amalj’aa warrior, the one at her side from Leviathan’s barb. There was even a burn on her arm from the heat of Ifrit’s fire. 

It amazed him that she knew each one and could recount the story as he found them without looking down to see where his fingers had tread. It was as enlightening as it was erotic, not just for him, he noted while admiring the dusky peaks of her breasts.

 

By the time Haurchefant had found every scar within his immediate reach, Carine was practically panting. The feel of his lips against her skin seemed to light a fire within her, a need that she had chosen to forget. He stoked the flames as his tongue traced the scars and his hands glided up and down her sides. When he returned to her lips to share in a passionate kiss, she was sure she was going to explode. 

“Carine?” 

“Hmm?” It was the only sound she could trust herself to make without asking that he finally touch her. Despite the kissing and the exploration of her scars, the man had yet to caress her breasts or dip between her thighs, and gods, she wanted him to. 

“I love you.”

The world halted its ceaseless spinning for that moment as the weight of his words crashed into her. She knew, gods she  _ knew, _ but hearing them spoke aloud had an effect that she couldn’t have prepared for. He  _ loved _ her. Loved her enough to take her away from her problems. Loved her enough to be patient and gentle and kind. Loved her enough to say the words she had never known she needed to hear. 

“I-I wanted you to know before...well…” he went on sheepishly, dropping his head just a bit to likely hide the blush she could see forming at the tips of his ears. 

Carine pulled him in, kissing him with everything she had to chase away his sudden shyness. “I know…” she whispered, heart swelling with so much happiness and joy she knew she would burst. “And I love you too.”

Lips collided again, this time more heated and passionate with the promise of no more interruptions. Her fingers curled in his hair, his hands gliding down her side and cupping one full breast. Eagerly she thrust her chest into his palm, moaning as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. Soon his body covered hers, his towel somehow going missing in the process. Carine didn’t mind a wit, her hand seeking his erection now pressed between them. 

Haurchefant hissed at the contact, likely surprised at her boldness as she stroked him. Eyes writ with desire stared down at her, and she couldn’t help but smirk at his submission to her decisive action. He even rolled over to his side, giving her a better angle to explore his length to her heart’s content. And she did so gladly, if only because she was terrified that her lack of experience would somehow dampen the dynamic they had going. 

And that fear escalated the moment he rolled on his back and positioned her above him, giving her all the control in the world and not knowing she knew not what to do with it. 

“I pray you forgive me for my apparent lack of experience…”

He looked to her in question, not understanding. “Not to dredge up bad memories, my love, but you told me you had willingly consummated your marriage.”

“I-I did...but only just once,” Carine admitted. 

Haurchefant grinned, unbothered by her admission as he sat up and pulled her body close to his. “Then let me teach you?” he asked and rocked his hips under her. The motion put the length of his cock in direct contact with her slit. That motion repeated had him rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves nestled there. 

_ Oh! _

He repeated it until her own hips began to move with his, the friction gathering between them soon making her quiver and shake in his arms. Before long she felt the familiar rise of her peak coming, a coil deep within her tightening until it broke. Carine cried out, her fingers gripping his shoulders, hips jerking of their own accord to ride out the orgasm he had coaxed from her without ever having entered her. 

“You’re beautiful when you come, have you ever been told?” he asked, kissing her in praise. 

Had she? Nero always wanted to watch her, but she didn’t think he had ever  _ said _ she was. “I-don’t know?”

“Hmm, well you are. And I want to see it again.” One hand reached between them while the other lifted her weight off so that he could better position himself. “Take me as fast or slow as you wish, sweet one. We have all night.”

Inch by inch, the carefully built walls she had erected around her body and her heart came down as she slid slowly onto him. His lips never left hers, capturing the gasp as he bottomed out within her. Neither of them moved, far too consumed with being so close to one another that there was no need for it. Carine decided she wanted nothing more than to stay like this with him forever, lost in the moment of falling in love and allowing herself to express that in the best way she knew how. 

This was an entirely different experience than her first and only time and she never wanted it to end. 

Haurchefant was the first to move, a small, needy twitch of his hips against hers that was soon followed by another. She rocked in time against him, allowing the friction of his skin against her throbbing clit to stimulate her. Soft moans and gentle kisses ensued as she grew more bold and eventually pressed him back against the bed. 

It was empowering to ride upon him, to see his eyes watch the way her breasts moved with every roll of her hips as she experimented with what felt the best. True to his word, he gave her all the control to move as fast or slow as she pleased, his hands holding hers in both comfort and reassurance. Only when she chose to bounce did he offer any assistance, cupping her ass and helping to lift her up and down. 

Her second orgasm came as swiftly as her first. Haurchefant pulled her hips flush to his own, holding her there as she let go, praising her and kissing her with reckless abandon. “So beautiful, so incredibly beautiful…”

Carine didn’t know when she had landed on her back, only that the quick thrusts of his hips was all the signal she needed to know he was close. His eyes held hers, the icy blue burning into her soul as he captivated her. She watched to watch him, wanted to see him come apart for  _ her. _

And he did. By the Twelve he did! A shout echoed as he spilled himself within her, eyes rolling back and hands clenched in the sheets with a ferocity that left his knuckles white. She made no move, content to just lay there in the wake of what they had done and kiss him to her heart’s desire. 

To avoid resting the full weight of his body upon her, Haurchefant pulled himself from her and went to the washroom, leaving her empty and alone albeit briefly. He returned with a cool, wet rag which he pressed against her.

“Er-I can do that,” she offered, her cheeks burning Dalamud red at the intimacy of it. 

“Allow me.” His eyes pleaded their case and Carine found she couldn’t refuse him. She allowed him to part her thighs and gently wash away the evidence of their lovemaking and watched him intently all the while. “You’re beautiful,” he added, placing a gentle kiss on her mound. Immediately her eyes went wide and mouth went dry, surprised that he would do  _ anything _ like that before he climbed back into bed.

Arms wrapped around her, hugging her close as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Lips showered small kisses over her neck and shoulders, wherever they could easily reach as he hummed in content. Carine turned around, the desire to face him too strong to resist so that she could touch his face and marvel that he was hers. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” she whispered in awe. 

“I keep asking myself that very question,” he grinned, kissing the pads of her fingers as they traced along his lips. “I am hard pressed not to believe this isn’t just some vivid dream and I will wake to find myself alone in my bed in Camp Dragonhead.”

“‘Tis not a dream or the Twelve will face my wrath.” Carine wasn’t lying either. If this were some cruel joke and she woke up to find that she had never met this wonderful man, someone would pay and she would make sure of it. 

“Was it alright?” Haurchefant asked after a few moments of simply looking into her eyes. “I did not hurt you?”

She shook her head and smiled, “I don’t think you are capable of hurting me. And ‘twas perfect...better than I could have ever dreamed.”

Relief spread over his face as he pulled her close and sought her lips. Would he ever get enough of kissing her? Or she of him? It was difficult to imagine, and when she did, the unpleasantness of their situation reared its ugly head. How often would they be allowed these private moments to find love and comfort in one another? Would he grow weary of waiting? Gods, would she?

“Tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked, brow furrowing as her worry expressed itself. 

“This...us...I-I don’t know how we will make it work…”

His lips quirked at the edges, eyes hinting at nothing other than the love he felt for her as he kissed her again. And again. And again. “We will, sweet one. I’ll wait every day and pray to the Fury for your return if I must. And when you come back? I will make love to you over and over until you are assured there is no other if that’s what it takes.”

A brow lifted. “Over and over, you say?”

An impish grin replied, “I have  _ much _ to teach you, my dear, and I will endeavor to show you everything and more...starting now.”

One swift movement later and she was back on her back, staring up at him with love and adoration reflected back. She could worry about tomorrow later. All that mattered tonight was that they had each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, this may be the only smuff chapter in this entire fic...BUT the next installment should have plenty to make up for it. We shall see <3


	35. The Threat Before Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad tidings interrupt Carine and Haurchefant's getaway. Desperate times call for desperate measures as the Dravanian threat grows in the Central Highlands.

“Thank you for receiving me on such short notice,” Lucia bowed her head towards the antecedent as she was ushered into the solar. Minfilia welcomed her with a gentle smile and a nod of her own while Alphinaud waited at her side. 

When the antecedent had called upon him to assist her with an important meeting, he had been expecting something concerning the Alliance itself or, at the very least, concerning the unrest in Ul’dah. He had been working tirelessly alongside his Crystal Braves to stay the tides of discontent among the refugees that now believed even the Warrior of Light was now against them. It had turned into something of a trying endeavor on his part to help clean up Carine’s mess, however unintentional it was, and he had hoped beyond measure that his efforts had not gone unnoticed by Minfilia and the other Scions. 

Seeing Lucia, Lord Commander Aymeric’s right hand, in the solar was something of a surprise. 

“Certainly. I trust you remember Alphinaud?” Minfilia outstretched her arm directing the knight’s steely gaze.  

“Well met again, Master Alphinaud,” Lucia bowed to him as well, the blonde bang sweeping along her face before being tucked back into place. 

“And you, Lucia. I trust all is well?”

His welcoming inquiry was met with hard eyes and a harder frown as their guest shook her head. “I come with news of the Dravanians. They have attacked us now in earnest, the first wave having already descended upon the central highlands a short while ago. Our victory - if it may even be called such - came at the cost of many of our own.”

It seemed a stretch the Ishgardians would stoop to this level and ask their neighbors of help. Yet given the demeanor in which Lucia presented herself and the way she looked upon them now in earnest, it was not entirely out of the question. “Is it reinforcements you seek, then?” Alphinaud asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

As it so happened, Lucia nodded. “So it is. Though it pricks at our pride, we are not so foolish to think we could withstand another attack such as the one we have suffered. Ser Aymeric has requested an audience with you to discuss the possibility of enlisting your aid. He would have come himself if it were not for the chance the Dravanians would strike again in his absence.”

Though he had expected as much, the earnest delivery was yet another surprise with this meeting. Lucia was ever the stoic knight waiting patiently behind her lord commander for his orders, but now she was pleading a case that Alphinaud was not sure the Scions could properly aid given their other ventures. 

“While I will make haste for Camp Dragonhead, you must understand that I cannot bring the full weight of my Crystal Braves with me,” he informed them both. “Our prior commitment to settling the unrest within Ul’dah must take precedence, though it pains me to say.” And pain him it did. He only had so many men and women under his command in this fledgling Grand Company and their resources were already spread thin thanks to the Ivy and her machinations. 

Lucia appeared to be expecting this response however, as she nodded in agreement. “‘Tis why I have come bearing other requests. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn are well known for their ties to all three factions of the Eorzean Alliance. Would it be possible to speak on our behalf in requesting their aid?”

Alphinaud could hardly believe his ears and judging from Minfilia’s step back, neither could she. The desperation the Ishgardians must be facing to stoop so low as to ask the Eorzean Alliance for aid when they had not even given them the time of day to read their own pleas when faced with the might of the XIVth Legion and Gaius’ Ultima Weapon. 

“I would gladly appeal to them on your behalf, but I cannot promise favorable replies,” the antecedent shook her head. “They were most...displeased when their own summons were ignored.”

“Do not fret, my lady, I hold no false notions they shall come running to our aid given our past dealings. Still, the fate of Ishgard now hangs in the balance. It would be unwise not to explore every avenue regardless of how unpromising it may be.”

“Should the Alliance send any aid, be aware that it may come with conditions,” Minfilia offered as warning. If the Scions of the Seventh Dawn were not above owing favors for help they sought, then it went without saying that the Alliance would expect something in return for helping an unwilling neighbor in their greatest hour of need. 

“We are willing to pay that price.”

So the knight painted a grim picture indeed. If the Holy See was aware that demands would be made of them, then their plight was truly great. This did beggar the question, would Ishgard’s alliance to Eorzea be enough to satisfy the demands made by the Alliance? If their forces were already so diminished, would they even be considered much of an asset against the threat of the Garlean Empire? Alphinaud wasn’t so sure. 

“And one last request, if I may,” Lucia went on. “I would make a personal appeal to the Warrior of Light. While I know she shares association with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, she also appears to be the sort of person to march to her own drum. With that being said, I am aware that she no longer bears the Blessing of Light, but her prowess in battle is what I seek. That, and she has spoken directly to Midgardsormr and survived. Mayhap she could lend us her expertise and any knowledge she acquired from the wyrmking to help us strike back against our enemies.”

“I shall make a point to reach her immediately,” Alphinaud assured the knight with a formal bow. Though Carine had been gone for several days now, there was little reason to believe she would not come at a chance to return to Coerthas,  _ especially _ given the way she and Lord Haurchefant had departed. It was a perfectly good krakka root dangled right in front of a hungry Chocobo, he presumed, and would be a quick way to send immediate aid to those currently suffering. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “And if you would also be so kind as to have her relay this information to Lord Haurchefant as well, that would be most appreciated.”

With that, the knight turned on her heels and walked out the door leaving Alphinaud behind to scratch at his head and wonder how the lord of Camp Dragonhead did not already know what had transpired over the last few days. “I suppose it is time to call upon our Warrior of Light.”

“So it would seem,” Minfilia sighed. “I pray she has recovered.”

 

***

 

Carine hissed as teeth grazed eagerly against her neck. Fingers tangled in pristine white sheets, eyes closed and lips parted in ecstasy as devious lips licked and nipped along naked flesh. 

Blessed Nophica, he was trying his damnedest to unmake her. 

Two days. Two days since Carine had finally given in and allowed Haurchefant to cross that line. Two days of them unable to keep their hands from each other. Two days of utter bliss. She never wanted it to end, never wanted to leave this tropical paradise where the harsh reality of life was easily ignored in favor of pleasure and love.

She turned her head to steal a kiss and moaned her appreciation as he granted it to her. Long, skillful fingers teased her relentlessly flicking so lightly against her clitoris before retreating. Carine wanted to beg, wanted to plead, wanted to do whatever it took to have him finally push her over the edge, but the playful quirk in his lip let her know he wasn’t nearly through with her. Besides, they had no where they had to be other than wrapped in each other.

After minutes of his torturous teasing, Haurchefant finally lifted her leg so that he might better enter her from behind as they lay on their sides. A grin curled the corners of her mouth as she mentally marked down yet a new position, one of many she had been learning in the past couple of days. Eyes rolled back at the feel of him inside her, his meticulously slow pace driving her mad with desire. She wanted more, needed more. Gods, if he would just fuck her…

A ringing in her ears interrupted her mid-moan and tensed her muscles. Haurchefant hardly noticed as he moved slowly against her, fingers swirling against her throbbing center. Carine wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t been her imagination and gave into her lover’s gentle ministrations until it happened again. 

“Everything alright, my sweet?” he whispered in her ear. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No…” she replied, unsure of what to tell him. Did people normally take linkpearl summons during sex? Was she supposed to make him stop? Gods, she didn’t want him to stop. “I think the Scions are trying to reach me.”

She felt his lips curl impishly and then his hips rock hard against hers. The moan was inevitable as it tumbled freely from her lips at the feeling. “Answer them. It might be important.”

_ Answer them?!  _ Her ears blushed a deep crimson the moment she realized he wasn’t going to stop. Would they hear her? Would they know what they were doing? Would they say something?

The linkpearl rang again, its timing becoming more persistent the longer she waited to make a decision...as did Haurchefant’s not-so-patient thrusts. 

“H-hello?”

_ “Thank the Twelve! Where have you been? Nevermind that, where are you now?” _ Alphinaud’s voice crackled to life which brought on a whole new level of discomfort. 

“Alphinaud? H-has something-” Carine pressed her lips together tightly to stifle the building moan. “Has something happened?”

_ “Is Haurchefant there with you now? He seems to have disappeared from Camp Dragonhead.” _

Another hard thrust stole her breath, fingers now pressing relentlessly against her clit as if the Elezen  _ knew _ he was being mentioned. “Uh, yeah, he-he’s with me.”

_ “Good. He is needed in Coerthas immediately. The Dravanians are stirring and it seems they are heading for Ishgard,” _ he replied in hurried tones. 

“What?!” 

The alarm in her voice was enough to cease Haurchefant in his relentless tease. He pressed his chest as close to her back as he could in an attempt to listen in, though it was a fruitless endeavor. 

_ “You may as well go to Coerthas with him. I shall be joining you as quickly as I am able. If you know anyone willing to fight, pray ask them to come along. We shall see each other soon…” _

With that the connection between her and Alphinaud was cut off leaving her with more questions than answers. She said nothing as she pushed herself away from Haurchefant in favor of looking for something to put on. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t packed anything that resembled armor for this trip or anything warm, which meant she would have little choice but to brave the cold winds of Coerthas until she was able to look through her closet in Camp Dragonhead. 

“You need to get dressed. Now,” she ordered, her voice staccato. She didn’t wish to be cold and callous with him, that was not at all her intention, but she couldn’t very well go into battle with her brain clouded with love and desire. 

He watched her from the bed, blue eyes following her every movement as she picked some random garments and threw them in his direction to help him get started. “Is aught amiss?”

Gods, she didn’t want to tell him. What if he worried or blamed himself for not being there? What if he regretted this time they had spent together? What if he was reprimanded for abandoning his post in the middle of war? 

Shit.

“The Dravanians. Alphinaud says they are stirring and making way for Ishgard,” Carine explained as she pulled on her small clothes and began braiding her unruly hair. “I know nothing else, but we need to get there immediately.”

She hated the way his face paled the moment she said those words and she hated that he was so easily able to switch from being her gentle lover to being a knight of Ishgard as he took the clothes she had thrown at him and began putting them on. A strange, tense silence filled the room weighing both of them down with their thoughts going a million different directions all at once.

Travelling back to Coerthas was an endeavor she never wanted to make under the circumstances. Carine wanted nothing more to have been able to return in good spirits and a better attitude, but the bleak, wintery surroundings that greeted them both the moment they materialized at the aetheryte there in the middle of Camp Dragonhead did nothing to improve her mood. The only thing that seemed to remain constant was the reassurance Haurchefant’s hand gave her as he gripped it tight while they made their way to the hold where Alphinaud was waiting. 

Carine had fully expected the youth to scold her for foolishly disappearing with the Elezen lord, but rather she was met with the familiar faces of Aymeric, Lucia and one person she hadn’t recognized at all. 

He stood stoically behind the others, silent and imposing in his black armor trimmed with gold. In all of her travels, Carine had bore witness to unconventional armor pieces, but there was nothing quite as impractical as the numerous blades and spikes that adorned this person’s armor. Everything about it was sharp, pointed, and precise save for the helmet that seemed to be lacking in one horn. Scratches and grooves in the black scales gave the indication that this was not some formal attire, but truly something to battle in. 

She simply couldn’t understand the logistics of it all.

The most disturbing thing, however, was that the only thing about him that could discern him as being a living being was the small window around his mouth that revealed thin, grim lips that seemed set in scorn. He seemed intent on leaving his helmet on his face, an immediate alarm that made the hairs on Carine’s neck rise. Nothing ever good ever came from men behind masks, she had the Garleans and the Ascians to thank for that.

“Ah, you have arrived and with Lord Haurchefant, no less,” Alphinaud greeted her by the fireplace and distracted her from the ominous stranger. 

“We travelled fast as we could,” Carine rubbed her chilled arms. Even just a few minutes out in the cold of Coerthas was enough to send her into a fit of shivers. “What’s happened?”

Aymeric stepped forward and it was then Carine noticed a tell-tale stiffness in the way he moved. There had been a battle recently, one the lord commander himself had participated in and judging by the forlorn faces now staring back at her, she knew it hadn’t gone well. 

“Before we discuss reinforcements and strategy, I would like to introduce you to a close friend and staunch ally, Estinien,” Aymeric stepped aside and motioned to the man in black armor behind him. “Ishgard’s Azure Dragoon.”

Carine knew little about the order of dragoons, but she knew enough that the title this man bore was one given only to the masters of the lance. She remembered stories her mother had told her as a child that the Azure Dragoon was without equal of all the warriors in Ishgard and as such he was given the power of the dragons so that he might contend with any Dravanian in combat. 

“So you are the Warrior of Light from which I have heard much about. ‘Tis little wonder my blood fair sang in anticipation of our meeting.” Though his words were poetic and seemingly complimentary, his voice was hard and crisp like that of a Coerthan wind. 

Even so, that hadn’t stopped Haurchefant from placing his hands upon her shoulders with his usual bright smile. “Now, now, let us not get  _ too  _ comfortable…”

“Ahem,” Ser Aymeric cleared his throat, deftly looking between the two Elezen with Carine at their center before resting his eyes upon Lord Haurchefant. “I trust all is well?”

Haurchefant squeezed Carine’s shoulders, the action making her heart soar as he looked upon her with such love and adoration she was sure everyone else in the room could feel it too. “More than well, my lord. I am ready to reclaim my post at your command.”

“Full glad am I to hear that for we are in desperate need,” Aymeric’s knowing smile turned to that of a frown as he stiffly leaned over the war table. Haurchefant released her, following the lord commander to look upon the issue at hand. Carine was never any good at reading strategy plans on tables, but she offered to look herself and was dismayed at what she saw. Even an untrained eye like hers could see their defenses were spread far to thin over the greater part of Coerthas. 

She turned her eyes to Alphinaud, who look as deeply perturbed as she felt. “I assume the Scions have been notified?”

“They have. As we speak, Minfilia is notifying the free companies and adventurers that aided us during Operation Archon, though it may some time before their aid arrives. Many of my Crystal Braves are already en route and should arrive at any moment, though it pains me to say many yet must remain in Ul’dah.”

“Still having trouble with maintaining order?” Carine asked. At his silent nod, she sighed. It was to be expected considering a primal had nearly been summoned right there in the middle of the city and innocent people had died to stop it from happening. She only wished there was more she could have done to save them the trouble, especially now when it seemed that every hand was needed. “I suppose that rules out the aid of the Alliance then?”

His frown and the silence that followed was more telling than words could have ever been. “Ishgard did not heed their summons when Gaius van Baelsar rose to subjugate Eorzea, therefore they should not be expected to rise. I suppose some credit should be due, they have each dispatched a small squadron consisting of no less than ten individuals per unit,” he clenched his fists.

“Right, because two wrongs make a right and thirty soldiers can turn the tide in a war against bloody dragons,” Carine scoffed. The ignorance between the two nations would likely be the death of her. “And if I were to speak with them personally?”

“I’m afraid of what your personal speeches might accomplish,” Alphinaud retorted. He had a point and thus would hear no argument from her. It seemed every time she was thrust into a diplomatic situation she managed to turn people against her. It was best to point her at the enemy and let her actions speak louder than her thoughts, no matter how loud her thoughts were screaming in her head. 

“What? But that’s impossible!” Haurchefant exclaimed drawing their attention back to their Elezen allies. “The wards have been in place for centuries, even since before the war itself. How could Lady Iceheart and her heretics have destroyed one of them?”

“Whether the heretics and the Dravanians are working in league with each other is yet to be seen,” Aymeric continued, already moving pieces on the board into position. “But there is little room for doubt the heretics that escaped us at Snowcloak used the attack from the Dravanians as a diversion to weaken our defenses.”

Carine bit the inside of her cheek. This made little sense to her in the grand scheme of things as she could not comprehend Iceheart’s motives. If she were one bestowed with the gift of the Echo and walked her path in the name of Hydaelyn, why would she lead an assault against innocent people? Sure, the goddess Herself was not clear on the exact paths Carine needed to take; it seemed as though she were mainly left to her own devices, but at the time her powers manifested, her goal seemed clear: destroy the Primals before they laid waste to the land and rid Eorzea of the Garlean threat.

Neither of those instances appeared to be a problem here and Iceheart herself had been able to  _ become _ a Primal. It went against everything Carine thought she knew about Hydaelyn.

“How long until they come back?” Carine asked. 

Aymeric and the others shook their head, their faces grim with the possibility it would be sooner rather than later. Even Haurchefant had lost his charming smile in the wake of this news.

“With the outermost ward down, it could be any moment and likely will be,” Aymeric sighed. “Though Iceheart eluded our grasp once again, we did manage to apprehend more of her followers and learn what they are after however, which makes us wonder if they are allied at all,” the lord commander went on after a moment. 

“And that would be?”

“The Eye of Nidhogg.” This time is was Estinien that stepped forward, his voice a deep growl that made Carine narrow her eyes at him. Just the sound of the name seemed to invoke a darkness within the dragoon that did not rest well with her. Trusted companion though he may be to Aymeric, the Warrior of Light was not convinced he was not a potential threat. 

“Nidhogg…” Alphinaud tapped his chin. “In all my reading, he has been featured prominently within your history. Was he not defeated by Haldrath?”

“Defeated, not slain,” Estinien corrected him sharply earning another displeasing glance from Carine. “They would take his eye and return him to full power. No wall or ward would be stout enough to apprehend him or his brood then.”

_ Well the news just keeps getting better and better, _ Carine thought to herself as she fell into silence. “Is this eye somewhere safe then? Somewhere they cannot reach it?” she asked. It would do no good to rally defenses to their aid if there was little chance of keeping the wyrm from his stolen eye. 

“The Eye is safe.” Estinien’s tone was one not to be questioned so she sighed with relief. She might not trust the dragoon, but there was no denying there was a boiling anger deep within him concerning the threats his homeland was now facing.

As the others began their talks of strategy, the Warrior of Light retired to the warmth of Haurchefant’s room and the promise of a warmer set of clothes. It went without saying that she was going to lend her help as best she could given the circumstances. Along the way she contacted Cid to have more of her special arrows sent to Camp Dragonhead along with whoever the Scions chose to send as aid. While she had not yet encountered a true dragon, she had fought the heretics that used glamour to turn themselves into one and knew they were hard to kill bastards. She would need all the help she could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter. It has been eluding me for what feels like forever and I am just glad it is done and out of the way so I can move on from this point in the story. Apologies for the mistakes and if it appears...weird. I'm not all that happy with all of it, but hopefully once I am past this part in the story, I will get my groove back ^^


	36. The Steps of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Tell me, Warrior. Art thou a pawn or a master of thine own fate?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shout out to Wintermoth for helping to fix the major language issues! Definitely grateful for the lesson :)
> 
> A short chapter meant for transition. Things should be picking up again soon and I can't wait!!! As always, thank you for your continued support!!!

Carine stood perched within one of the towers along the bridge that separated Ishgard and the Sea of Clouds from the rest of Eorzea. Her keen eyes scoured the skies for any signs of the dragons she knew were coming, hand gripping tightly to her bow. It was difficult to discern anything through the fog that had crept in through the night. The world was cold and grey and surprisingly peaceful in the early morning light.

She yawned and stretched. Joints popped and muscles loosened under the leather armor she had chosen to protect herself for this battle, much to Haurchefant’s disapproval. Dragons were tough and strong, he had said, their teeth capable of ripping through any leather with ease. He had tried tirelessly this morning to change her mind in favor of the Fortemps heavy armor he and his knights wore, but Carine had declined. What good would she be in battle if she was to encumbered by the weight of iron and steel?

Her lips quirked at the thought of him. He only worried over her because he cared which meant everything to her. She was sure even if she still possessed the Blessing of Light he would have suggested armor he knew was proven to withstand tooth and claw of the scalekin beasts. She supposed someone had to since her mother was still back in Gridania without a clue as to what she was up to.

Carine really needed to write her soon.

Bells passed and still there was no sign of the beasts that were supposedly storming the gates. A few knights had come to visit with her and see if there was anything they could help her with, but it was all just to feel like they were _doing_ something. Even she was growing restless in her tower. There was naught to do but stand there and stare out into the swirling mist that shrouded the distant land from her view. That and sharpen her weapons. Or count arrows. Again.

_“Thou art quick to slay my brood, mortal.”_

The Elezen very nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the wyrmking’s voice in her ear. Her head whipped around, eyes searching for the source of the voice and ears listening in for any sign the giant wyrm had come. To her great surprise, there was no giant, terrifying head of a beast that could have swallowed her whole. Rather, there was a tiny dragon small enough to sit upon her shoulder if it fancied peering up at her from the ground at her feet. It’s triangular head tilted in a manner that was almost cute. “You’re tiny now. Lovely,” she muttered to mask the tremble in her voice. How had he appeared here without her knowing?

 _“This is but mine avatar. I would wish to bear witness to thy' worth firsthand,”_ he replied with a flap of his leathery wings.

“Of _course_ you would.” Carine gritted her teeth and chose to look back over the mass of rolling fog. On the one hand, this was a perfect opportunity for the dragon to witness her skills in battle. On the other, he mentioned them being his brood. Killing the children of a monster like him when he held the power to control a blessing given to her by a goddess seemed in poor judgement. Not that it would change her position on the matter. Wars meant choosing sides.

 _“Thou hast met another of Hydaelyn’s chosen, hast thee not?”_ Midgardsormr leapt into the air to look her face to face. _“Tell me, what hast thou gathered from that meeting?”_

Carine would have much rather the dragon told her that Lady Iceheart was in league with the Ascians than to supposedly be fighting for the same entity she did. It only served to make her head hurt. Mayhap had Midgardsormr not severed her connection to the Mother Crystal...but that wasn’t it because Carine hadn’t heard from her since the Garleans were chased out of Eorzea.

“I gathered that she is just another misguided soul that thinks she is doing something for the greater good,” she said. “The problem is, the greater good is a matter of perspective.”

Gaius thought he had been doing things for the greater good of Eorzea. He had practically spelled it out for her when they had met on opposing sides. The worst part in that was he wasn’t wrong. Eorzea had a shit way of dealing with things and the Empire had to have done _something_ right to earn the undying loyalty of Rhitahtyn. Still, what was the point in doing something for the greater good when there would still be those that suffered from it? Was feeding everyone and giving everyone shelter worth their freedom to choose the way they wished to live their life?

 _“Thou dost have some wisdom.”_ He seemed genuinely impressed which both made her proud and angered her in the same breath. _“But does thou know for whom thou fights?”_

Her jaw clenched at the question. “Are you going to tell me? Or am I to be kept waiting?”

_“Thou hast no place in this war, yet thou hast chosen to wield thy weapon against a foe thou knowest not. Tell me, mortal, why dost thou fight?”_

There were a hundred different answers that came to mind at once. Fighting to defend the Ishgardians and hoping to use this battle as a stepping stone to forming an alliance with the nation was amongst the chief of her reasoning. Protecting Haurchefant and the innocents within the walls of Foundation was yet another. Somehow she figured that nothing she thought of would satisfy the tiny dragon peering into her eyes for an answer. “My reasons are mine own,” she resorted to saying, ultimately kicking herself for the lack of conviction she now felt.

A deep rumbling that resembled that of a chuckle came from the dragon as he landed upon the edge of the window she had been looking out of. _“Have I struck a nerve, Warrior of Light?”_

“No, but you seem to know something I do not. Why not just tell me what it is you know and save us the trouble and the possible bloodshed?” Carine snapped.

_“Bloodshed cannot be avoided now. Sons must answer for their father’s misdeeds. Sin shall not go unpunished. My son hath roared, his brood called to take flight. Ishgard shall burn.”_

“You would condone this bloodshed? Why?!” She asked of him, wide-eyed from disbelief at his words.

 _“This is retribution, mortal. We do not forget and we do not forgive,”_ he said, voice low and full of dangerous promise. _“The people of Ishgard are blind to their sins and yet they wish to sin more. Thus why my kith and kin roars. Thus do they come to fight. All knoweth their place and would see Ishgard fall even at the cost of their lives.”_

Carine tried to think of anything the Ishgardians could have done to provoke this sort of lasting anger against them and came up with nothing. She knew precious little of the nation’s history other than they had been at war with the dragons now for a thousand years. Her mother had said something about how Nidhogg, the Dread Wyrm as he was called, had attacked the original King Thordan, killing him upon this very bridge she now surveyed, but that seemed to be a sin against the Ishgardians and not the other way around.

“If you know something, dragon, you might as well tell me.”

_“Tell me, Warrior. Art thou a pawn or a master of thine own fate?”_

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

 _“And yet thine answer reveals much to me,”_ he replied.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. First Gaius and now Midgardsormr. The Scions would do well to not leave her alone with those that would see Eorzea fall apart to chaos because somehow they always seem to find a way to make her question her motives. “I’m glad at least one of us is getting the answers they want,” she mumbled under her breath as she looked back into the sea of fog below. She had entertained him long enough. The tension in her bones grew as she waited knowing full well the dragons were out there somewhere watching them squirm. Anxiety raced her heart and shortened her breath as she waited for the strike she knew would be coming.

 _“The answers thou seekest shall come when thou art ready to learn the truth,”_ he shook his little head. _“Today is not that day.”_

 _Yeah and what you mean is that countless people will have to die needless deaths when you hold the power to stop it,_ she thought icily. By some miracle she managed to hold her tongue to prevent further argument against the dragon. Nothing she could say would get him to tell her what she wanted to know and he seemed content with leaving her in the dark. To what end, Carine had only to guess. Why he thought she wasn’t ready to know the truth of the matter at hand, she couldn’t say. As far as she was concerned, neither he nor Hydaelyn cared about what would happen should Ishgard fall and that didn’t set right with her.

Whatever sins had been committed in the past should have remained there.

 _“Ah, the Warrior doth think and reflect,”_ Midgardsormr purred in satisfaction. _“There may yet be hope for Hydaelyn’s champion.”_

“Oh go fly in a windstorm,” she waved him away with a hiss. Her patience for him was now long gone as the threat of battle loomed ahead. She needed to focus, to breathe, to prepare.

The tiny dragon avoided her hands with ease turning circles in the air just out of reach. A deep rumbling that resembled that of a chuckle seemed to come from him only adding to her frustration. She was nearly ready to pull out one of her sharpened daggers to warn him away when the beast stopped in mid-flight and cocked his head to the side. His breath fogged out in tiny clouds as he listened to something the Elezen couldn’t pick up on. In an instant, the dragon had blinked out of existence before her very eyes.

_“Be vigilant, mortal. Thine enemy approacheth.”_

Just then, the very breath after his warning, the world shook with that of a great dragon’s war.

The battle had now begun.


	37. Hands Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nanamo Ul'Namo has a lot on her plate and recent revelations have done nothing to quell her growing fears....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of different conversations concerning Teledji Adeledji and put it all in one big package to help move the story along into the next...and last phase of this fic. Things are about to start getting real...and I hope everything laid out here will make more sense in the chapters to come :)

Nanamo Ul’Namo looked up into the darkened sky as airships arrived and departed from the landing. In the distance she could hear the sounds of fighting, yet another rebellion from the refugees breaking out at the gates in the wake of their desperation. Her walks through the streets of Ul’dah had decreased exponentially of late thanks to the unrest within the city’s walls which had left her feeling more restless. 

Would that she held the power to do more to help those dying people. 

The soft whisper of sandals on sandstone alerted the Sultana that she was no longer alone, but when she turned there was relief at the sight of Raubahn joining her on the balcony. Custom took precedence as he knelt in a bow, not that she would acknowledge it. He was a dear friend as much as he was her general and there was no one around as far as she knew that needed to see the formality. 

“Your guests have arrived, Your Grace,” he said, his deep voice momentarily blocking the distress in the streets below. 

“I shall join with them soon,” she replied, her eyes still overlooking the horizon with worry. “Did the Antecedent bring news of the fight in Ishgard?”

Raubahn stood up and joined her at the edge of the balcony. “She did, though to her current knowledge, the fight is not yet over. She has insisted on sending more soldiers.”

Nanamo looked down at her feet and sighed, “Would that we could afford to.”

The commander stood silently beside her, no doubt agreeing with the sentiment. “From what she says, the battle is going in their favor. They have the Crystal Braves and they have the Warrior of Light. We should have faith in them.”

She did not believe that, not because she did not trust the Champion of Hydaelyn’s prowess in battle, but because the Scions and their free company were doing what Ul’dah and the other city-states ought to have done. Their meager forces were nothing to be proud of and hardly a show of support to work in favor of creating the alliance between their nations the Scions were so desperately working for. Alas, so long as there was unrest in her city, there was naught they could do. 

“Tell me, General, what think you of Alphinaud’s Crystal Braves?” 

The question seemed to take him by surprise. It had been months since the lad had approached them and wanted their consent to form the Grand Company. At the time, she could not have imagined a better thing for the Scions to have done. Given the recent revelations brought out from the investigation of the Ivy, Nanamo was no longer so sure. 

“I think it a bold endeavor, Your Grace. More than bold. I believe they can pave the way to a more united Eorzea,” he answered honestly after a few moments of consideration. “I fear that since the fall of the Ultima Weapon and the end of the Draft, our nations have moved further apart, not closer together. Considering all that we face, should we not be glad someone else is taking the initiative where we cannot?”

His was a fair question, one she could not outright argue because if it were not for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their Warrior of Light, there would likely be no contact between Ishgard and the rest of Eorzea at all. Alphinaud’s ambition and vision for a truly united country was the one thing spurring these negotiations on, but that did not alleviate her doubts as to what might become of the Grand Company the youth had gathered. “I myself have doubts as to the good this organization will achieve. It already is a fearsome military body hosting some of the most esteemed soldiers within its ranks, but whom will it serve?”

“My apologies, Your Grace, but what has brought about these doubts?” Raubahn asked. 

“Does it not concern you that a significant proportion of its financial backing came from the coffers of the Syndicate?” Nanamo kept her voice steady though the threat of emotion wavered her words. “Is it not possible that such a force could be bought by those unprincipled worms and used as a private army?”

It had been all she could think about since the Reclamation Bill Teledji had proposed had made its way into her hands. What exactly his contribution to the company was, the sultana knew not. The Monetarists excelled at protecting their wealth and identity when it came to such matters making it nigh impossible to catch them in the middle of illegal dealings. 

“We must have faith in the Scions, Your Grace,” Raubahn assured her, though even he seemed uncertain. “Ever have they aided us when called upon without hesitation along with their stalwart ally…”

“The very one that allowed Nero tol Scaeva to escape?”

Uncomfortable silence fell between them as she whispered the words her general had wished remain unspoken. It had been an unfortunate thing for him when Roaille had brought the matter to his attention during their interrogation. At first, he had believed it was a bluff designed to throw him off balance and take the edge off his questioning, but after more prodding she had revealed all that and more to him. 

“We do not yet know the reason behind her actions,” he said carefully. “We were not there and we did not experience what she had.”

Nanamo agreed wholeheartedly, but as the sultana of Ul’dah, she had to remain logical and open-minded to all avenues. If the Warrior of Light could not trust the leaders of the Alliance with such delicate information, why should they have reason to trust in her actions? If it weren’t for the fact that Carine had ever remained a steadfast ally to the downtrodden going as far as to personally make sure they were fed on her coin, Nanamo might have more reason to doubt her intentions. Had it also not been for the fact she consistently risked life and limb to save them from the threat of Primals, she would have been more likely to have brought this information to the attention of the other Alliance leaders. 

As it were, she feared for Carine. Merlwyb and Kan-E-Senna had already shown their eagerness to toss her to the wolves when things did not look in their favor. She could not very well turn her back on her without knowing all the details herself, which was why she had hosted this late evening meeting between her friends and the Antecedent herself. 

“I would ask that you send for the Antecedent first,” she asked of him, voice trembling ever so slightly with the hard pattering of her heart. 

“At once, Your Grace.”

Left alone with her thoughts for a few minutes, the Sultana drew a deep breath and let it out in a silent sigh. These were troubling times. They could ill-afford to crumble at their foundation now, but there seemed to be no answer for the trials they yet faced. What good was her crown and royal title if there was naught she could do with it? The Syndicate built their wealth upon the backs of the impoverished and would yet continue without cease as there was nothing she could do to stop them and their tyranny. She was nothing but a symbol for the people, a symbol that offered them peace of mind and hope, yet she did not feel it these days. 

Nanamo was soon joined again as Raubahn lead Minfilia to the balcony. He took his position to the only entrance to safeguard their discussion lest any of the Monetarist scum try and glean anything of use from private conversations. 

“Well met, Your Grace,” Minfilia bowed her head and smiled. “I should thank you for your invitation.”

“Likewise I should thank you for accepting. I understand you are quite busy with everything in Coerthas,” Nanamo tilted her head in reply. 

“Your request seemed urgent and seeing the others awaiting you, I fear there must be something amiss?”

The Sultana nodded and smoothed her dress as she fully turned to face the Hyur. Ever the respectful woman she was, Minfilia took a seat at the edge of the fountain that sat against the wall behind them so that the Lalafell would not have to crane her neck so high to look upon her. “I fear there are several things amiss,” she admitted softly as she took a place beside the blonde. 

Worry filled the blue eyes that looked down upon her. As much as she wanted to assure her there was nothing for her to fear, Nanamo could not be so sure of that herself. It all depended upon her answers to the questions she sought, and her reaction to the information she would give her.

“Our investigation with the Ivy has now concluded,” she turned her face away to watch an airship ascend into the star-filled sky. “And with it, we have learned rather troubling news. News that concerns the Warrior of Light.”

When she turned to face the Antecedent, she found a careful mask had replaced the worry on her face. Disappointment filled her chest as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap knowing now that the Scions knew of this information. 

“You must understand why we did not come forth with the truth,” Minfilia began, her voice stiff and cautious. “‘Tis not that we did not wish to, only that we did not know how without creating further unrest between the nations.”

“How long have you known?”

“A few months, only after she had returned from the Crystal Tower,” the Antecedent answered honestly, eyes closing in resignation. “But it was my decision to keep it from your ears as he was the one to bring us the revelation of the inner workings of Garlemald.”

This surprised Nanamo and appeared to have surprised Raubahn as well as they turned in unison to look at each other. “So Nero betrayed his homeland to save our own? To what end?” 

Minfilia shook her head, face graven as she looked upon the sandstone at her feet. “We do not know and neither does Carine. The only thing we are sure of is he is not a threat to us for the moment, nor may he ever be now that he is declared defunct.”

It was difficult to imagine what had transpired between the Warrior of Light and the husband she had been forced into marrying. She was never forthcoming with that information; Nanamo assumed she had good reason given the passionate way she defended the other brides and the troubles they faced, but she was also quick to say she had never had it as badly as they. “I shall ask you this once, Antecedent. Do you believe there is a chance Carine’s interests lie anywhere beyond our borders?”

“I cannot say that for certainty,” Minfilia replied giving rise to Nanamo’s doubts in the warrior. “However, I only tell you this because it has been made known to me by other Scions that there is another she has grown to care about since our correspondence with Ishgard began. Carine is yet her own woman. Though she may have declared her services to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and proclaimed to be protector of Eorzea, I cannot promise she may not lend Ishgard her services as well nor would I force her not to.” Her voice, tinged with sorrow, dropped lower as she went on, “‘While ‘tis not the best of times, we must all find some sliver of hope and happiness, should we not?”

The Sultana nodded her head in agreement finding relief at her words. If the Warrior of Light had moved on from her past, then it would be best for her to leave it where it lay. “You have given me great comfort,” Nanamo told Minfilia. “I had not wished to doubt your intentions, but with the duplicity all around, I could not be certain until I spoke with you myself.”

“And I did not wish to deceive you or any of the other Alliance leaders.”

“I fear you were not wrong in your wish to protect your organization and the Warrior of Light, not after the doubt we all had upon seeing the Black Wolf’s proposal. However, I do not think it wise to be too quick to inform the others of the truth.” Nanamo could clearly remember that night and the disappointment she had in her peers for being so keen on giving up. She had remembered the fear upon the Warrior of Light’s face knowing full well what would have awaited her with the Garleans. If they had any reason to doubt Carine’s intentions, it would likely break the already fragile bond between the nations. 

The Antecedent was not lost on this fact either, given the look of relief in her blue eyes and the sigh that fell from her lips. There was little doubt she had thought this meeting of the Alliance had been to expose the Scions to the lie they had helped cover. “I should thank you, Your Grace.”

“This was not the only reason I asked for a private word with you.” The Sultana motioned to Raubahn that held the reports she felt Minfilia needed to see. “It has also not gone unnoticed those that have funded the formation of your Crystal Braves. While I do not distrust your intentions given all the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have accomplished, I worry about the loyalty of the army now under their command.”

Minfilia looked over the scrolls for several minutes before answering. “Commander Leveilleur has entrusted me with authority over the Crystal Braves,” she said softly. “I have overseen these reports and while I understand your concerns lie with whom we have taken our coin, I pray that I might settle them with my position granted by Alphinaud.”

Of course, Nanamo already knew who held authority over the Crystal Braves, it had been outlined in great detail within the document she had signed granting her consent. As a ruler whose “authority” was supposed to protect the people of Ul’dah however, she knew loyalty could be easily persuaded by coin. “I only bring this to your attention because I fear you do not yet know about the truth of the uprising here in Ul’dah.”

“I was under the impression that it was the machinations of the Ivy that had started the unrest amongst the refugees. ‘Tis this not the case?”

“What I am about to tell you cannot leave this balcony,” Nanamo looked up at her with bright, green eyes. “The first uprising did not occur the night Rhalgr was summoned within our streets. The decision made by the Syndicate to reject the Doman refugees did not only tug at the heartstrings of our Warrior of Light, but also those who have ever made it their goal to help the refugees outside our gates. They claim it a policy of discrimination against those affected by the doctrine made by the Garleans and as such organized demonstrations throughout the city to open eyes to their cause. Peaceful demonstrations, that is, until a group of Brass Blades loosed arrows upon unarmed demonstrators and refugees giving their heartfelt accounts of the atrocities of the Empire.

“We thought it a miscommunication, given the chaos surrounding the event and the accounts the Immortal Flames procured during their investigation,” she went on. “It was this atrocity which lead the refugees to take up arms. I need not tell you what followed…”

Minfilia closed her eyes and sighed. There was no need to recount that fateful night and the effect it had wrought upon Carine and the other Scions. Still, she failed to see how this had anything to do with the Crystal Braves and who funded their coffers.

“Raubahn had several of the Brass Blades involved in the incident interrogated. Sure enough, one of them confessed to being bribed with coin by a merchant to give the order. A merchant under the employ of Teledji Adeledji.”

The Antecedent’s eyes shot open and she turned to the woman beside her in bewilderment. “Teledji Adeledji? But he spoke in favor of helping the Domans! And was he not to propose a bill to bring aid to the Ala Mhigans that had fled their homeland? Why would he do such a thing?”

It pained her to know that Minfilia and the Scions had been fooled by the man’s posturing that day of their negotiations, but it was not unsurprising. Even she had held out hope that he would have held good intentions. Unfortunately his ploy for power seemed to have no bounds and would risk the foundation of the Alliance for his own personal gain.

“Do you know of the Carteneau Reclamation Bill?” Nanamo asked. She doubted the woman did considering much in the way of Ul’dahn politics did not leave the capital and such things were not under her jurisdiction.“It is a proposal to annex the Carteneau Flats to give the refugees a place to establish personal settlements.”

“Of course. He had made mention of it during our visit a few moons ago, did he not? I was not under the impression that anyone had outright refused him? Other than Lord Lolorito, that is.”

Nanamo shook her head, “Likely because no one believed him serious. We all know the destruction wrought upon the land the day Bahamut was released. It was not feasible to imagine anyone settling the land, especially considering it disputed territory amongst our nations. Despite the fact that Lord Lolorito has declined this bill at every turn, Teledji has not stopped in trying to get it to pass. By inciting the refugees to the violence our citizens and the other Monetarists fear, it stands to reason he hopes to sway those that have disagreed with him into believing this bill the only viable solution to our problem. Already there are few within the Syndicate who have changed their vote in favor of the Reclamation Bill in the wake of the summoning, though not enough yet to pass.”

“And you fear that sooner or later there will be enough votes to put this plan into action?” Minfilia asked. “But would it not solve the problems lying at your gates?”

“Oh, but it would. At what cost? There are reasons the Carteneau Flats are a disputed territory given the ancient Allagan ruins revealed in the wake of the fall of Dalamud,” Nanamo informed her. “Ruins that could hold untold power such as that of the UItima Weapon.”

Minfilia stilled at this, the picture now becoming perfectly clear. “If the bill were to pass, that would give him control of those ruins and everything that lies within, would it not?”

“That is our fear.”

“Is there naught to be done to stop him?” she asked, brows writ with worry. “Is his relation to the merchant that paid the Blades not akin to treason?”

Sadly, Nanamo shook her head, pink curls swaying in the motion. “Alas, there is naught. Though the merchant paid them to give orders not sanctioned by anyone of power, there is no correlation asides him being under Teledji’s employ. We lack the evidence to convict him of any crime and to arrest him on spurious grounds might further play into his hands.”

And it was all unjust and unfair. Again Nanamo was left to wonder what good her crown was if her hands were constantly tied thanks to the money that yet ruled over her city. She had already shed enough tears over the matter though more threatened to flow at the grim reminder of where she stood. It was her hope that the Antecedent would realize that the organization under her authority could be subject to the same fate, and Nanamo would not wish to see it turned against the Scions as her own Sultanate had been turned against her. 

“You fear he might have means to use the Braves against us?”

“I fear that loyalty can be swayed with enough coin. I pray you exercise caution with those that invest in this endeavor,” she warned. “Though I know this company is Alphinaud’s dreams, I fear of what it might be capable of if put into the wrong hands.”

“I appreciate your concern, Your Grace, and I shall take it to heart,” Minfilia smiled down at her in reassurance. 

It was not much later that she dismissed herself at the news the battle at the Steps of Faith had concluded. Eager to see what had befell her Scions and the Warrior of Light, Nanamo could not deny her taking leave and offered a moment of prayer that all had turned out well. Raubahn had offered to escort Minfilia to the airships leaving Nanamo alone once again with her thoughts. 

She knew the others yet waited below wondering what had driven the Sultana to summoning them this late evening, and though she had no intentions of making them wait longer than they had, she still needed a moment to gather her thoughts. What she had to tell them required all the strength and conviction she possessed. No, she may not have the power to bring to heel the likes of Teledji through the crown, but that did not mean she did not have the power to take away his influence or the influence of the other greedy members of the Syndicate. 

Hands clenched at her sides and face set with determination, Nanamo Ul’Namo looked to the sky once more with resolve knowing it was the beginning of her end as ruler of Ul’dah.


	38. Scares and Snares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine makes an unfortunate realization and an ambush attempt goes awry.
> 
> *Shifty eyes*

Carine stared at her twisting fingers and the delicate glass teacup sitting daintily upon its saucer. She could feel the narrowed eyes of her mother glaring, but couldn’t bring herself to look up and acknowledge her. 

It had been two weeks since the battle at the Steps of Faith and the better part of a month since she had last sent word to her beloved mother. It was a transgression she was paying dearly for now. 

“When were you going to tell me?” Elaine asked, sipping on her tea as if she weren’t staring daggers at her eldest daughter. 

“When things calmed down.”

“Darling, you’re the Warrior of Light. Things  _ never _ calm down when you’re involved.” There was a tell-tale lilt to her mother’s voice, a good sign that Carine wasn’t truly in trouble for having not responded to her letters. It was enough reprieve that she dared even glance up to see if there was that familiar, mischievous twinkle in her mother’s eye, the one that would tell her all was forgiven.

Elaine Monteil was never quick to anger. It took a great deal of wrongdoing to earn her ire. With Carine’s title of being the Warrior of Light, she was even content to let her daughter traverse the entire continent of Eorzea knowing full well she would be busy from dawn till dusk.

But when word got around about Carine’s  _ infatuation _ with a certain exuberant Elezen lord, all that had drastically changed. 

“To be fair, nothing was really set in stone?” Carine attempted with a shrug. It was as true as she could make it. Their impromptu vacation to Costa del Sol had only occurred a few days prior to the attack made by the Dravanians, and it had only been a day prior to that Moenbryda had sacrificed herself to save Minfilia. A lot had happened in a week’s time.

Elaine smiled, her wisen eyes full of knowing as she reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I am not angry because you didn’t tell me. I am disappointed that I am the last to know.”

_ Way to kick a girl in the guts, Mama, _ Carine thought to herself as she chewed her bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure what to tell you considering everything with Nero…”

“Did you love Nero?” her mother asked.

She shook her head. There was a time she cared for him and hoped that he was a better man, but the events at the Crystal Tower had done nothing but affirm her beliefs that he was a selfish person with goals devised only to benefit himself. Even as her heart ached for what she had allowed herself to imagine him being capable of, it was a dull throb in comparison to what she felt for Haurchefant, if there was a comparison at all. 

“No, I did not.”

“And do you love Haurchefant?” Elaine raised a greying brow and smirked. She knew her daughter better than Carine knew herself at times. It was a relief as much as it was annoying because there was nothing she could slip past her without her Mama knowing.

“I do,” she sighed. “At least I am praying this is love. I can’t imagine feeling more than I do now.”

Elaine laughed, “Just wait until you have children. I suppose that will be easier for you if you and this Haurchefant chose to marry and try.”

Carine just chuckled and stirred her tea. Of course her mother would already be thinking about her having children. She knew she meant nothing by it and would never encourage her to start before she was ready, but…

And then she stopped, eyes snapping wide and fingers frozen on the spoon that she had been using. 

_ I suppose it will be easier for you… _

Oh Blessed Nophica  _ no! _

“Carine? Are you well?” Elaine asked, her voice going from sweet to concerned in a snap.

Was she? No, not at all. Not now because she realized she hadn’t taken a  _ single fucking potion _ since her and Haurchefant had started being intimate to prevent pregnancy. “I’m fine,” she managed to smile through it, and surprisingly it had to have been convincing because her mother seemed satisfied. “A lot going through my mind, is all.”

“I suppose that’s my fault. I shouldn’t suggest the two of you already thinking about marriage or children when things are only now being established,” she apologized. “Especially with you being as busy as you are being the Warrior of Light.”

Oh yeah, that would  _ definitely _ be a problem. How in Seven Hells was she going to defend Eorzea from Primals and Garleans and Ascians at every turn with a baby bump? Gods, that didn’t even consider what Haurchefant might think of her being pregnant…

Carine needed to get to Y’shtola as soon as possible.

“It’s fine, Mama,” she calmly reassured her. “We’re just taking this thing one step at a time.”

“Good,” Elaine smiled broadly and squeezed her hand. “Because the next step is you bringing him over so I can meet him.”

“O-okay. That...he would love that,” Carine stammered, looking any which way but at her mother. There was no doubt in her mind that Haurchefant would be thrilled to bits to be invited to meet the woman that was Carine’s rock in this world. She was sure the only reason he hadn’t asked prior to this conversation was because there was simply too much going on in Coerthas to make the time for it. He barely had enough time to leave his post and enjoy the sun’s warm rays for a couple of days. “He’s busy for now, but…”

“No buts, the two of you can come and share dinner with me this weekend,” Elaine nodded in affirmation. “Busy though he may be, it’s not that far to Camp Dragonhead and, to my understanding, the two of you passed through Gridania on your journey to Costa del Sol.”

“But…”

Elaine put a finger against her lips, “You mean to tell me the two of you cannot take a few bells to visit with me?” She blinked at her with large sapphire eyes and a slight pout to her lips that meant she really wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I’ll write him as soon as I return to the Rising Stones,” Carine caved. If anything, it gave her a reason to leave her mother’s cottage as soon as possible to get to her friend that could ease her mind on the newest trouble to plague her. 

Her mother clapped her hands together with glee and grinned at her from across the table. “Just let me know which day will work best. I’ll make sure to pull the freshest ingredients from Violaine’s garden to prepare for the occasion. Might need to see if Miounne has anything up her sleeve in baking goods…”

Already she was planning the entire thing from appetizer to dessert completely oblivious to her daughter’s inner turmoil. Carine decided it might be best to leave before she caught on, slipping out after giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek and promising to write to her as soon as she figured out what would work for Haurchefant. 

And the teleported her ass as quickly as she could to Revenant’s Toll. 

 

Y’shtola was exactly where Carine had hoped she would be sitting in the main welcoming area and speaking to Tataru over some Scion matter. The two of them immediately looked up as she entered the room and waved before returning to the conversation at hand. She hesitated to go up and interrupt what could have been a rather important discussion, but what choice was she left with? The only person she could trust to figure out if she was pregnant or not was the white haired Miqo’te and her expert conjurer skills that Carine lacked. 

“Ah, Carine! Just the woman I was hoping to see,” Minfilia stopped her before she could take a single step in the direction of the women. 

“Uh, yeah? What is it?” she asked, spinning on her toes to look at the Antecedent. 

“You aren’t too busy, are you? No plans to return to Coerthas soon?”

Carine shook her head. Ever since the battle at the Steps of Faith, Haurchefant had been travelling back and forth between Camp Dragonhead and Foundation. There was no need to go there and be cold if he wasn’t there to warm her up with his smiles and hot cocoa...among other things...and it was best to give him the space to do what he needed. 

Minfilia seemed pleased and ushered her closer, “A few jobs for you then, if you’ve a mind. As you well know, Alphinaud has been diligently working on weeding out all of the Ivy’s contacts as well as trying to figure out who stole the weapons given to the refugees and the crystals they had used in their summoning. He has since sent me a report that Captain Ilberd has received word of a black market merchant making a deal in Eastern Thanalan within the next few bells. I imagine the entire process will be dealt with more swiftly with your involvement.”

“Sure, when should I leave?” Carine asked. 

“Soon, I would imagine. Ilberd and his unit have already departed,” the Hyur said. “The other job is one that can wait until at least the morrow. Hoary Boulder and Coultinet have an escort mission with a Scholar wishing to study in the Twelveswood. Being as you are well aware of the area and the things to watch out for, I imagine it would be in their best interests to have you as a vital member to their team.”

She supposed it could have been worse. Since the demise of Nabriales, Ascian activity had dramatically decreased into absolutely nothing. Word must have gotten around that the Scions had something more powerful than they, something that could send them to the Void whether they wanted to go or not. There hadn’t been much activity from the beast tribes either. Such was to be expected when everytime they summoned their god, she had been brought in to kill it without so much as breaking a sweat. 

Thank the Twelve they hadn’t caught word of her lacking the Blessing of Light.

“Sure, play law enforcer and escort. Simple,” she agreed with a nod. If she were truly honest, it was even a relief from the day in, day out, the world is going to end if we don’t do anything to stop it sort of madness she was used to.

“Excellent!” Minfilia clapped her hands together and smiled sweetly. “One other thing before you go. We have received an invitation to a banquet of sorts, one to be hosted in Ul’dah.”

Carine raised a brow to that. “What sort of banquet involves our attendance?” The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were not well known for their presence at parties, they were far too busy saving the world and putting their resources to better use than wining and dining each other, so for them to have received anything of this nature was shocking.

“One where certain Alliance leaders dare think they contributed anything to the Ishgardians’ cause.” Minfilia both looked and sounded annoyed as she folded her arms over her chest and scowled. 

The Warrior of Light couldn’t help but echo the sentiment. “Should I remind them that it was the Scions of the Seventh Dawn that forged the path toward this tentative alliance?” Carine asked. She wasn’t wrong and the Antecedent knew that. The Eorzean Alliance could hardly have been bothered to send a small unit of soldiers, much less an entire squadron to help in the battle at the Steps of Faith. It was thanks to the Scions and the Crystal Braves, as well as the Warrior of Light, that the Ishgardians had emerged victorious at all. 

“Would that I could condone that tongue of yours,” the Hyur smirked, offering a rare glimpse at the woman behind all the responsibility that weighed on her shoulders. “But I imagine that it was Ser Aymeric that put the belief in their head they had done something notable and worthy.”

Ah, leave it to the ever formal Lord Commander of the Temple Knights to thank the leaders for their almost worthless contribution to their cause. No doubt he had thanked them in earnest for sending their meager units simply for the fact they hadn’t thought they would win. 

“You’re lucky then. Everyone knows my tongue has a mind of its own,” Carine winked. “When is this event to be taking place?”

“Three days from now,” the Antecedent replied. 

“Three days? Why, whatever am I going to wear?” the Elezen rolled her eyes. “I imagine this is meant to be formal, yes?”

Minfilia nodded. “As you well know, no weapons within the Royal Promenade, so best to keep your daggers at home.”

“Do I have to be there?”

“You were requested specifically,” the woman looked up at her apologetically. “I do believe Raubahn intends on rewarding your efforts in trying to settle the unrest within Ul’dah.”

Carine looked to the floor, a wave of guilt taking over. She felt she hadn’t contributed a damn thing other than making things worse. Stopping a Primal was all well and good, but not when it was likely her fault for it being summoned in the first place. Despite the guilt, she kept her mouth shut. It would do no good to dwell on it, but that didn’t mean she would blindly accept the recognition. 

“I suppose you better get going,” Minfilia finally stated. “I will tell Hoary and Coultinet that you will be along either later this afternoon or tomorrow morning for their task.”

The Warrior of Light watched her walk away with a wave before turning back to the table where Y’shtola and Tataru had been seated. To her dismay, neither of them were there anymore and they were nowhere to be seen within the main hall. She cursed herself for getting distracted as she wove her magic spell to take her to Camp Drybone.

 

Ilberd was found within the small settlement giving orders to his men when Carine arrived. It was pouring rain, drenching her almost immediately the moment she materialized at the Aetheryte. He seemed genuinely surprised to see her, if not a little intimidated by her presence as he approached and saluted.

“Warrior of Light, I hadn’t expected you to be along,” he admitted. “Is there a problem?”

Carine shook her head and tried to wipe away the loose strands of hair that plastered to her face as the wind whipped around them. “No, not at all, unless you count this weather as a problem!” she smiled, one he returned. “Minfilia asked that I come and help you with your duties. I pray that won’t be an issue?”

“This hardly seems a task befitting of the Warrior of Light,” he told her. 

“Nonsense! If I can help wrap up this Ivy case, then I would gladly do so.” There wasn’t much left to worry about other than the few loose ends that needed tying up. There was still the matter of the merchant that had sold illegal weapons stolen from the vaults of the Brass Blades and the master of said merchant. If they could get him and all his contacts today, that would be one more nail in Eline Roaille’s coffin and one more step in putting this tragic mess behind her.

Ilberd seemed unable to counter that argument. He seemed the most dedicated to putting this matter to rest over everyone else working under him. According to what she had heard in the Rising Stones, he had tirelessly been trying to put things right in Ul’dah since her arrest and had been successful in weeding out the Brass Blades that had stolen from the vault to give to the merchant they were now chasing. 

She followed him out to the Burning Wall, an area full of corrupted crystals that jutted up from the ground in the wake of the Calamity. It wasn’t a place many adventurers would travel, dangerous beasts lurked through the twists and turns of the natural bridges, but that did make it the perfect place for black market deals to go down. The problem was trying to find the culprit hiding amongst the tall, orange crystals or the intricate cave systems that lead to this unique landscape.

“Are you sure your information was correct?” Carine asked as she leaned over the ledge to look below. So far there appeared to be nothing of interest save some Golden Fleece and Quartz Doblyns minding their own business. 

“Aye lass, I trust my lead,” he replied quietly beside her. Sure enough, after torrents of rain had subsided to a gentle sprinkle, there appeared to be a camp further below them. 

Ilberd’s plan was rather genius in Carine’s eyes, and along her particular tastes when it came to an ambush. He had already ordered his men to block off any possible exits in case the black marketeer and his cronies tried to escape while Carine was to jump down and surprise them. There were no orders to kill the man, only to apprehend him until Ilberd was able to make the arrest and escort him back to Ul’dah for questioning. 

At his signal, she followed the plan to perfection...or as close to perfection as she could. The jump had been much bigger than she had imagined and the landing had jarred her joints to the point of distraction. She had hardly any time to recover before the henchmen hired by the merchant were on her, blades cutting at her flesh and tearing at her clothes. The scuffle went on for a good few minutes before they were both unconscious on the ground leaving the tent wide open for investigation. With a grin, Carine pulled back the flap and stuck her head inside…

Only to find that it was completely empty.

“What in the Matron’s name?” she cursed, brows furrowed in confusion as she fully entered the tent to better see. There was a single lantern providing light upon a simple wooden table, but there wasn’t even a cot to suggest they were planning on staying for any period of time, let alone anything that indicated the marketeer was supplying illegal weapons. She searched the other two tents to find less than nothing in them as well. 

So why were these men guarding them?

Given how hard she had to hit them before they quit swinging back, Carine imagined it would take awhile before they came to and gave her any information if they would at all. Their sort, the kind that worked for Monetarists, were tricky with their words and would sooner die than betray the man or woman that hired them to carry out nefarious plans in their stead. That, or they would be killed before anyone could question them. 

She decided to tie them up and leave them there for Ilberd and his men to collect while she went to find the captain and inform him what she had discovered. It wasn’t likely to please him considering the resources he had expended to get this far. Either he had a bad lead, or someone was trying to upset his investigation. 

Carine rather hoped he found the bastard and ripped his head off. Might do him some good to let off some steam after the whole Ivy ordeal.

Before she reached the cave where she was meant to rendezvous with him, she heard what sounded like a fight. It was hard to tell over the wind and the rain, so Carine hurried her steps to see what was going on. 

Alas, upon her arrival, there was a man lying dead at Ilberd’s feet and one of the green recruits with a bloodied blade in his hand looking down without a hint of emotion. Ilberd turned around, his eyes widening for a moment before straightening out and saluting her. 

“What happened?” she asked, kneeling down and examining the man. “Was this our guy?”

“Aye,” Ilberd sighed and waved his hand. “He must have had a heads up for he was already making out with these weapons. I heard the fight and came running, but my comrade here was too quick with his blade.”

Carine looked up and watched the Crystal Brave walk out of sight without a single backwards glance. Odd. For someone a little too eager for a fight and accidentally killing their target, he seemed not to have the remorse he should. “Well...damn.”

“You’re telling me,” Ilberd punched his fist into his palm in agitation. “That’s not even the worst of it. I was told this shipment would be bigger. Much bigger. If this is all he had, then someone lied.”

That was it then. There was still someone out there who had invested interest in keeping all of this under wraps. Carine wondered who it might be, though she thought she could fancy a guess. Minfilia might not have said anything to her about the investigation, but there had been some clues she had found lying on the Antecedent’s desk that pointed toward a certain Lalafell she would so  _ love _ to strangle again. Minfilia had good reason not to tell Carine what she knew, but dammit if the Elezen didn’t wish she would give her a reason to hunt that little shit of a Lalafell down and tell him  _ exactly _ what he could do with his reformation bill. 

The trouble was, any lead they had that would expose him for the fraud he was died with this man at her feet.

“Lass, you don’t have to stay if you don’t wish,” Ilberd stated, his pale eyes roaming over the crates of weapons in anger. “My men can scour the caves and the Burning Wall for the rest of this afternoon. I’m sure you have more important things to do than worry about this mess.”

“‘Tis important to you,” she attempted to smile and lighten the mood, but he could still barely stand to look at her. They might have patched things up to some degree, but he just couldn’t quite return her smile as he once had. “But if you truly think you are better off without me…”

Ilberd put his finger to his ear as a message came through his linkpearl. “Are you sure?” he asked, the anger returning to his voice. “Bloody hells. Fine, pursue them and find out who sent them! I’ll be on my way.”

“Is aught amiss?”

“Aye, apparently a band of Duskwights were seen barreling out of the caves by one of the Braves. They looked to have crates with them that could be the other part of this shipment,” he clenched his fists and growled. “Lass, I hate to order you around or put something as lowly as taking these crates to the Rising Stones, but I’d rather not leave it to chance those scum loop around and come back for what they missed or forgot.”

Carine held up her hand and smiled, “Say no more. Ask and it shall be done. I have to head back there anyway to meet with some other people. Are you sure you don’t need my help in rounding up the miscreants?”

He shook his head and pulled his sword from his side, its steel flashing in the dim light that filtered through the mass of churning clouds overhead. “I think I have them covered.”

There was no arguing that. Carine, even with all her skill in physical weapons wouldn’t wish to find her on the opposite end of his blade. She had watched him enough in the training yard to know he was deadly and she knew well enough that he could hone his anger into making him deadlier. She only wished he would let her help more to make up for the lie she had allowed him to believe for the smallest chance that he might truly let water go under the bridge. 

“Alright then, if you say. Just let me know if you need my help, yeah?” she grabbed the handles to transport the crates and gave the Highlander a mock Brave salute. He waved her on with the slightest of grins, already jogging to catch up to his men and hopefully turn around this disaster of an ambush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could not make my original idea for this chapter work no matter what I did. Decided a tiny time jump was just what I needed to move things forward ^^ Also forgive me of any mistakes...still no beta and I am NOT a good editor after several long weeks of 10 hour days xD


	39. Conspiracy Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine receives warning that something seems to be amiss. She doesn't realize just how bad things are until she makes an unexpected discovery in the South Shroud.

“Ah! You have arrived with the black market weapons!” Yuyuhase, leader of the 3rd unit of the Crystal Braves, grinned as Carine rolled up with the crates. It had taken her nearly the entire afternoon to transport them to Camp Drybone before she could get a draught Chocobo to help her out and give her arms, legs, and shoulders a break. “Here, let me have some of my men assist you and rid you of this unseemly burden.”

“Thanks, but I think I can deliver this to Riol. I made it this far,” she replied with a smile. She was already covered in dried rain, mud, and copious amounts of dust and debris from her journey, might as well finish the last leg if she had come this far looking like a wreck in tattered clothes.

“Nonsense! Ilberd has already informed me to take matters from here once you have arrived. Besides, Riol is on a mission at the moment and likely won’t be back until the morrow.”

“If you insist…” she passed the reins to the Lalafell with some hesitation. Yuyuhase was not among her favorite of the Crystal Braves. In fact, the Warrior of Light thought him insufferable. She was willing to tolerate the complaints made by younger Braves like Wilred for not understanding exactly what they had signed up for when joining the Grand Company, but Yuyuhase knew exactly what he was getting into and yet complained at every turn for being put in unnecessary danger.

From what she remembered and what she had learned, Yuyuhase had worked for a company to collect the tolls when someone used an aetheryte. It was a lucrative business within Eorzea, given that most everyone used the easy mode of transportation even if most of them couldn’t use it more than once per day. Carine had been surprised and impressed that someone would have willingly given up their easy wealth to carry the title of Crystal Brave, but that had been short lived. At every turn the Lalafell complained over this and that, especially when there was danger present. Had he not already sworn his oath, she would have told him to go back where he came from. Alas, he was a Crystal Brave through and through, even if he tried to swindle coin off the Ishgardian knights he had been assigned to helping him for nearly letting him get carried away by a dragon during the defensive effort at the Gates of Judgement two weeks prior.

At least Wilred ran into battle with vigor and excitement and was more than eager to tell the tale of how he killed two dragons on his own. Their opposite attitudes only affirmed what Carine already believed; the wealthy of Ul’dah were shit while the refugees of Ala Mhigo were worth their weight in gold.

“A shame this was all there was,” the Lalafell shook his head as he looked over the wagon. “Half the stolen goods are still out there for someone to make a profit from.”

Carine frowned. That didn’t sound exactly like what Ilberd had said, but then again she had missed out on the majority of the investigation. Mayhap he and his men never caught up to the Duskwights, or mayhap the Duskwights didn’t have what he thought they had. It was enough to give her a headache and eager to leave this all behind. If they could just go back to pointing her in a direction and telling her to fight, she would be more than happy to oblige. She was not made for investigations.

Yuyuhase eventually parted ways with his men, a ledger in his cherub-like hands to catalogue everything on that cart to see what was missing leaving Carine to enter the tavern and descend into the Rising Stones. A familiar whistle however, stopped her just as she put her hand on the door. She looked around, confused and more than a little convinced she had just dreamed it up, when she saw Riol peeking from behind a nearby building. As soon as their gazes met, he waved her over, his face a complete mask.

“I thought Yuyuhase said you were on a mission?” Carine said in a hushed whisper. The Lalafell was already well out of earshot, but the Hyur didn’t seem to wish to be seen or heard from currently by anyone besides her.

“Aye, I was, or am,” he replied, his green eye peeking around the corner one more time to ensure they were alone. 

Riol was easily the most secretive of all the Crystal Braves. It had been a trait she knew well enough about prior to recruiting him, one that had allowed her to find a way into Titan’s lair without the Garleans, and her husband, being aware. For him to be so cautious, especially around comrades in arms, gave reason to worry. “Has something happened?”

He sighed and ran his hands through his blond hair. “Tell me, lass. Have you seen or heard from Wilred since the battle at the Steps of Faith?”

Carine frowned. She distinctly remembered him attempting to woo some of the Coerthan ladies with his tales of fighting dragons and failing miserably because it was already something they were accustomed to seeing in the men surrounding them. She also remembered him telling her something about being put on his first real mission to investigate the Ceruleum Processing Plant after rumors had suggested the Garleans had planted enough bombs to blow Northern Thanalan off the map. 

That came with the memory of her smirking and imagining that wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

Ultimately she shook her head and told him so. She figured there was little reason to worry, she barely saw many of the Braves at any given time, even Riol himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the more experienced members to be given their own tasks and if Alphinaud and Ilberd believed Wilred capable of handling himself in the field, then who was she to question them?

“Godsdammit!” Riol cursed, his fists clenched and face twisting into a grimace. 

“What? Think he might have run off to chase more pretty Elezen women?” Carine waggled her brows and grinned. 

“No. The problem is no one’s heard from him since he wrapped things up at the processing plant.”

“Mayhap he was sent on another mission?” she offered. “Have you spoken with Alianne? Isn’t she the leader of his unit?”

“O’course I spoke with her. She was the first I went to when he hadn’t shown up after telling me things weren’t adding up with the ledgers,” Riol explained. “Doesn’t help he went missing right as news of this black market deal leaked out. Got half the company suspicious he made out with the goods.”

“I assume this is all being talked about on the linkshell?”

He tapped the side of his head, “Aye. In great detail, mind you.”

That made more sense. It seemed impossible the entire Grand Company would have known about what happened at the Burning Wall already unless Ilberd had informed them. With how angry he was, it stood to reason he might have requested backup. If even just one of the members hadn’t responded to his summons, she couldn’t fault him for assuming the worst. 

The problem she faced was that Wilred didn’t seem the type to make off with half of a stolen shipment and just disappear. If anyone gave off those vibes, it would have been Yuyuhase. Considering that he was here and currently cataloging the stolen goods, he was eliminated as a suspect. 

“Do you know where he is?” 

“If I bleedin’ knew, I wouldn’t be askin’ ya now, would I, lass?” Riol crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, pieces of hair falling over his eyepatch. “I can tell you I don’t believe for a minute the lad is capable of a heist like this, not without professional help. Even if he was, I doubt he would go against the company. The boy has heart and passion that puts the rest o’ us to shame. He pledged himself to this cause and he bloody well meant it. A boy like that don’t turn on his own, not without cause.”

Carine agreed. She knew better than anyone the boy had a troubled past in accepting his place as a refugee. She personally had to stop him and his friends from summoning Rhalgr what seemed like an eternity ago. Still, she had remembered his passion and his desire to do right by Eorzea and his fellow refugees when it came time to recruit members to the Crystal Braves, and he had been more than eager to join. Every single day after his recruitment, Carine had watched him practice and train in the training yard with anyone and everyone that would give him a few moments of their time. He talked often about all the good the company would do and how excited he was to be a part of something that could change the world.

If there was anyone in all of the Crystal Braves that loved what he was and the potential they had, it was Wilred.

“What do you think happened?” she asked, her voice dropping low. There was no reason to distrust Riol, not when he had lent his aid in helping find Titan’s lair, and if he thought there was something amiss or foul play going on, she would do her best to listen. 

But he shrugged and sighed, the drop in his shoulders admitting defeat as he looked up at her. “I don’t know, lass. He only mentioned something queer he noticed in the Brave’s numbers and then quit reportin’ for duty.”

“And Alianne knows nothing more?”

He shook his head. “Hasn’t heard a word or seen a whisker of the man, so she claims. The lass has been a bit quiet lately, keepin’ to her own. If Wilred’s gone missin’ because of somethin’ he found, might be in her best interest to remain that way.”

Carine chewed her lower lip and exhaled. This was just what she needed, another conspiracy. It seemed as soon as one was laid to rest against her, a new one reared its ugly head to focus its attention on another asset to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. “I’ll investigate further after this weekend, if you think it can wait that long,” she offered. Between the task of escorting the Scholar through the Twelveswood for whatever it was he needed to her own mother wishing to meet with Haurchefant, there was more than enough on her plate. She had to believe Wilred was fine, maybe even laying low if someone knew he had discovered something he shouldn’t have. Alianne’s silence seemed to confirm something along those lines. 

“Nah, there’s a villain at the end of this road. I intend on seein’ it through,” he smiled. “Just thought someone ought to know. Someone that ain’t blinded by grandeur.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight against Alphinaud. Smart and capable as he was, the very thought his Crystal Braves could possibly be corrupted would be tossed to the wind should he get word of this. “I’ll let you know if I see or hear anything,” she told him. 

They parted ways soon after with Carine’s intent to head to the baths to wash her cuts and change into clothes that weren’t tattered and torn. There was still no sign of Y’shtola anywhere to be seen though it looked as if Tataru had returned to her post. 

_ Not the person I need. Not right now, anyroad. _

The bath was well needed and well deserved. It relaxed her tired muscles, washed away the dirt and grim clinging to her skin after the rain and travel. It was the right concoction to make her weary and send her straight to bed, but not before writing a letter to Haurchefant concerning the request her mother made. She kept it short and simple, hopefully not too formal, and sealed it with wax before taking it to one of the porters heading towards Camp Dragonhead. With any luck, he would be there and not in Foundation and be able to tell her when would be best to meet. 

She still needed the relief in knowing she hadn’t fucked up their future together because of her inattention to detail.

That didn’t seem to be happening this evening as she made her way to her room and fell upon her bed. No doubt the resident white mage had been dispatched to deal with something in Limsa Lominsa, and Carine wasn’t brave enough to send her a message through the linkpearl requesting her for something like this. 

_ It’s fine, _ she told herself as she rested her eyes.  _ I’m not pregnant and this will all work out. No need to get worked up over what amounts to nothing… _

If only she could truly be convinced of that.

 

***

 

“Now, if you’ll just stand over there while I conduct these tests. Can’t have you distracting me or letting beasts get too close, now can we?” 

Carine rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time since she met this scholar in Camp Tranquil. She had been under the impression that it would be her, Hoary Boulder, and Coultinet escorting the single man, but as it turns out he was a member of a team sent to investigate the aether readings in the Shroud. The other two scholars were paired with Hoary and Coultinet while she was paired with the one meant to test the South Shroud. Out of all the people for her to be assigned, she had been paired with who could only be described as the biggest ass she had ever worked with.

And she had lived with bloody Nero tol Scaeva.

The Warrior of Light did as she was told and picked the best place that allowed her advantage over anything that might be prowling nearby. The scholar pulled out his instruments and book, his feathered quill working overtime as he jotted down the readings as they were happening. He was much more tolerable when his mouth was shut and his eyes on his book she decided as she walked along the cobbled pathways of the long since fallen Amdapor. 

Occasionally she would be forced to pull out her bow and fell a wandering Treant disturbed by their presence. It was quick, easy work, something she could do with her eyes closed and it helped cull the aggressive population of the Treants that called the Snakemolt home. However, it seemed to greatly disturb her ward who complained with every step.

“I will not ask again, Scion. If you could keep your disturbances to a more quiet level, this would go by much quicker,” the scholar scolded her without turning his back. 

_ Oh yes, right, of course! I have the complete ability to keep the beasts from screeching as I save your wretched life from their claws, _ she mouthed while rolling her eyes. It had been this way since she met him. He had seemed happy enough that  _ the _ Warrior of Light was his personal guardian for his observations during the day and had commended her for all she had done. Carine wasn’t so proud to wish for him to lavish her with praise, though it was a better alternative to being reprimanded for doing her best to help.

She had half a mind to let one of those bats fly just a little too close so he might appreciate what she was doing more. 

Several bells passed and Carine had been forced to revisit several dungeons she had opted to investigate for the sake of knowledge. He would mumble about things being inconclusive and the aether readings being remarkably lower than they were prior to the last Calamity, but it was all gibberish as far as the Elezen was concerned. She would let him set up his instruments and diligently guard him from over curious creatures and the suffer his ranting over the state of her clothes or the way she smelled or the fact she was now currently covered in blood and offal. 

Ok, that she couldn’t blame him for. She was  _ ripe. _

“Tread carefully here,” Carine warned as they made their way to Urth’s Gift. It was one of the most dangerous locations they had visited, rife with aggressive boar and stinging gnats. The last thing she wanted was for him to misstep and find himself face to face with a beast that could gore him with one swipe of his head. 

“Yes yes, but that’s why I brought  _ you _ along, remember?” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Though I will urge you to stand downwind. I cannot bare the stench of you a moment longer and it will ruin my concentration.”

Carine bit her tongue hard and winced. She had promised Minfilia she would be on her best behavior, but gods she just wanted to rip into him or leave him behind to fend for himself. Instead she took a deep breath and plopped herself in the creek to wash the worst of the blood and meat off her clothes. She’d be wet and there was likely to be chafing and blisters as a result, but at least she wouldn’t have to hear him complain one more fucking time. 

Carefully she removed the letter she had carried on her since that morning, the reply that Haurchefant had sent in regards to her summons, and set it upon a rock just out of reach of the water. He had been more than excited to hear that Elaine wished to meet him and even more elated that he would have a single afternoon that did not require him to remain in Camp Dragonhead. 

She did not envy the new workload she had just put on herself. She had a fitting with her mother in the morning to make sure the gown she had chosen for the banquet would fit right and well, and then she had to help gather a few ingredients for her mother’s meal because “fresh was best”. At the rate this scholar was going, Carine wouldn’t be able to return to her mother’s cottage until much later this evening which meant she would be in a tight spot for gathering the meat needed for the meal.

“I pray you are remaining diligent, Scion!” the scholar shouted from his spot on the rocks. 

“I pray you shut the fuck up and worry about your readings,” Carine replied, though at a level he wouldn’t hear. Couldn’t have someone else thinking the Warrior of Light was against them because of her snark.

_ Baby steps, Carine. Baby steps. _

While he was preoccupied with gathering his readings, she chose to sit and enjoy the view. Urth’s Gift truly was a gift. Clear water cascading down tall waterfalls, the gentle melody of it lapping against the algae covered stones, the way small leaves fell from the tall branches that hung over head reminded her how much she loved coming here. Carine might have even thanked the aggressive boar that grunted in the foliage below where they now stood. It was their dominance coupled with Odin’s lingering presence, that kept this piece of the Shroud pure. 

A shout from further upstream alerted her that the scholar had wandered out of her line of sight. She cursed under her breath and grabbed her bow, ready to fend of whatever poor beast might have been startled by the man until she saw him paused over something in the water. 

“H-help! Scion! Scion help!” he yelled. Carine had half a mind to stick an arrow in his head for attempting to alert every beast in a malms radius to their whereabouts. 

Until she found the reason for his distress. 

Bright blue, the color of the Crystal Braves, floated around something that weighed them down. The scholar was trembling from head to toe, frozen in place by shock, but it wasn’t him that held her steady gaze.

It was the lifeless eyes of Wilred staring toward the canopy. 

Carine wanted to vomit, but found herself unable to move to evaluate his prone form further. All she could see was the boy she had recruited all those months ago, the one who’s smile could light a room and whose passion sparked determination in the soldiers. 

Who would have done this to him?

She pushed her way past the blubbering fool who was backing away muttering incoherent sentences, and pushed away her own desire to do the same. Deep wounds gutted him, spilling his entrails into the stream where small fish were feasting. At first, she would have assumed a boar had done this. They were ferocious beasts with an attitude that held a grudge, but the wounds were too clean, too precise. There were no jagged edges even after he had been left behind as fish food. 

“Do you have access to a linkpearl with the other scholars?” she asked the man behind her. There was no response and her patience had now worn thin. Carine turned in a fury and stomped her way through the pool of water and smacked him across the face. “Get your shit together and call upon them. Both of them. Tell them to bring Hoary and Coultinet with them. Now!” she bellowed, watching his eyes change to pure terror. 

“A-at once…” he muttered, fingers fumbling at his ear as he tried to get the device to work. “Gods...oh  _ gods!  _ I’ve never been so...so close to a…”

She couldn’t be bothered to hear him finish that statement. She had seen her fair share of dead men and women. She had been the demise to more than she cared to count. Each one of them now stared at her in accusation as she knelt beside the lad. 

Her fault. It was her fault.

She should have paid more attention to Riol’s warning. He was the only person that seemed to give a damn about Wilred’s untimely disappearance. This was a cover up, an attempt to make them think that he had wandered here alone and had nothing to protect him from the beasts that roamed here. If it weren’t for his blade still safely tucked in its sheath or his shield bearing no signs of hard fought defense, she might have even considered it was something caused by an aggravated boar. 

By the time the others had arrived, Carine had brought the lifeless body of the man onto the shore. He deserved better than to be eaten by fish and other wild things, and judging by the bewildered expressions of her companions, they agreed. 

“You think it murder?” Coultinet asked as he looked over the body next to Hoary.

“Aye. These wounds are too perfect to have been made by a wild beast,” the Roegadyn agreed with her assessment. “Nay, he knew whoever attacked him and trusted them. Likely another Brave if I had to guess.”

Carine clenched her fists at her side, her worst fear being realized. Just like with the Immortal Flames, someone had infiltrated the Crystal Braves and were now trying to cover up their mess. Whatever mess that was. 

_ What did you find that made you a target? _ She wondered. 

“Carine, you should return to the Rising Stones at once. Minfilia will want to know,” Hoary Boulder turned to her, his face a mask of concern. 

“And what of the others?” She motioned to the other two scholars now comforting their friend while simultaneously stealing glances at the body.

“We can take care of them, don’t you worry,” Coultinet smiled. “You’ll manage to get there long before we do, and she needs to know something has happened.”

He was right, they both were, but that didn’t make this news any easier to bare. They had just recently lost Moenbryda and though Wilred was not a direct member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, he still felt like part of her responsibility. She had recruited him, after all.

She walked away, finger at her ear in a summon for Riol. She needed to speak with him without fear of being overheard, and she needed to do it now.


	40. Troubled Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine wants nothing more than to get down to the bottom of what happened to Wilred, but Minfilia warns her to be cautious as they prepare to spend the night in celebration of their victory towards a more united Eorzea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of jumping around, didn't feel the need to go into excruciating detail as most of you know what's about to go down. >.> <,<

Carine waited on the bluffs of Outer La Noscea. Wind whipped around her and stung at her eyes, the threat of a storm brewing in the horizon. She hadn’t revealed to Riol exactly where she would be waiting for him other than where they had first met. It was the best she could have come up with given whoever might have been listening in and wondering why the Warrior of Light would be requesting his presence. 

Three whistles later and Riol came riding up on one of the porter Chocobos from one of the camps below. His face spoke of worry. It wasn’t like Carine to call for anyone in particular, much less a Crystal Brave. One look at her forlorn expression did nothing to quell the wrinkle in his brow as he dismounted and stood alongside her.

“Wildred’s dead.”

The Warrior of Light didn’t bother to turn to see the man’s reaction, she could feel his surprise the moment the words left her lips. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t the one behind the murder of one of his own, if he were, he was a damn good liar and she would pay for trusting him dearly later on. 

“Seven Hells! What happened?” he asked, the tone of his voice barely passing for idle chat. He was angry. He had every right to be. 

She shrugged, “There was nothing on him, so I don’t know. All I know is he was found in the South Shroud with wounds that attempted to mimic boar tusks.”

“South Shroud? What in bleedin’ hells was he doing there?” Riol turned to her.

“Honestly, I was hoping you might have an answer for that before I run off to Minfilia and tell her what happened.”

The Hyur pulled at his chin and gave it much thought before slowly shaking his head. “I couldn’t tell ya, lass. We haven’t have orders to patrol the South Shroud, no reason to.”

Carine’s lip trembled, the only thing betraying the storm raging within her. “Who would do this, Riol? Tell me so that I might make them pay for this.”

“Shit...look it’s long since past time to have this talk,” he replied, folding his arms over his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that since Wilred turned up missin’ I went lookin’ through the ledgers I had assigned him searchin’ for clues as to what he might’ve found. Wasn’t easy, mind you,” he huffed. “Had to keep it quiet and work around Yuyuhase’s schedule, but after we had our conversation yesterday, I went back to diggin’ and found it. Seems a fair bit o’ coin has come into our coffers by a Dodo’s Consortium.”

Carine blinked and frowned. She had never heard of that business and wouldn’t even know who would have owned it. There were several businesses that had exchanged ownership since the draft was made void, but who would consider that a good name? “And?”

“And I take it ya feel it’s as daft a name as any for a business,” Riol grumbled. “It was the first clue somethin’ wasn’t quite right, but then again there were all the changes in ownership after the Garlean’s left, I assumed it was part o’ some feud between some merchants. Problem is, it isn’t the only such business with a stupid bloody name.”

He went on listing the names of the businesses, the amount of money they had ferried into the Grand Company, and precisely which units were the ones benefiting from their excessive donations. Clearly the 1st and 3rd had been bought out by someone, but that didn’t explain how Wilred had ended up dead in the Black Shroud.

“You have an idea as to who is behind it all?” Carine asked. She didn’t have much longer before she had to leave and beat Hoary Boulder and Coultinet to the Rising Stones with the news of Wilred’s death, but she wanted to know exactly who she could blame and punish for the heinous act. 

“Aye. All the companies have a single common factor. They’re all owned by the Mirage Trust.”

_ Teledji. _

“Thank you, Riol. Return to your post,” she instructed him as she began weaving the spell that would transport her to Revenant’s Toll in the blink of an eye. “If anyone asks, just tell them I needed your assistance with something. Make it up and make it believable.”

Before he could protest, she had blinked out, leaving him behind to figure out what to say.

 

***

 

Minfilia sat at her desk and listened to everything Carine told her with invested interest. It had come as a shock to the woman to hear that the missing Crystal Brave hadn’t simply run off with the shipment, as everyone was wont to believe, but had been murdered by someone or several someones he had known. 

The Warrior of Light was beside herself, stricken with anger and rage that was just barely being controlled. It was hard to see her in such a state given her usual manner, and Minfilia found herself wishing to have that version of Carine in front of her again this every moment. 

“As much as it will pain you to hear this, you must stay your hand,” the Antecedent ordered, fully aware of the backlash she was about to receive. 

Carine just stopped in her pacing and stared at her in disbelief. “Stay my  _ hand? _ How could I when I know that slimy bastard is still out there mocking us…”

Minfilia rose from her chair and walked around the desk in hopes of showing the distressed Elezen that she understood. “There is a time and place for everything. Alas, with the envoy of Ishgardians coming to celebrate in the event that could very well pave the way to a truly united Eorzea, now is not that time.” 

She could easily see the conflict in her eyes as she battled with her own notions and desires to do what she believed was right. Carine was a woman of action who cared little for spoken words and appearances. She saw a problem and dealt with it in the manner she saw befitting. Minfilia had been a fool to think the woman before her now had any capacity for diplomacy, though she could thank her for the effort she had made. It spoke leaps and bounds of her improvement that Carine was here in the solar with her voicing her agitation rather than spiriting away to Ul’dah to find Teledji and murder him without the people there knowing she was only serving justice.

Even now her shoulders slumped as she gave in and realized that she was right. That was the most painful thing of all as Carine sank into a chair and rubbed her hands over her eyes. Submission was another thing the Warrior of Light was not known for which meant that she didn’t know what else to do.

Her hands had been tied.

“I suppose we have to wait until after the banquet, don’t we?” There was a pleading to her voice, a pain that resonated deeply within Minfilia as she looked at the dejected eyes of the woman trying to keep herself together. She wanted nothing more than to keep others from hurting, especially those that had already suffered so much. Would that her compassion could be shared amongst those that lacked an onze; the world would have been better for it.

“We should adhere to the laws of the nation to which he hails,” Minfilia nodded. “It is not our place to take justice within our own hands and execute it as we see fit.”

Carine rolled her eyes but didn’t offer protest. “I suppose it’s a good thing I went ahead and sent a letter to meet with the Sultana before the banquet begins.”

Minfilia blinked at her in surprise. She hadn’t expected such a  _ responsible _ method of confronting this problem from the likes of Carine. She was bold and reckless and brazen in all that she did, and while appealing to one of the most powerful members of the Syndicate was all of that, it was also the most sane thing she had ever done. “You appealed to Nanamo?”

The Elezen smirked, the familiar twinkle in her eyes returning and chasing away any fear that she was changing too dramatically too fast. “Didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”

“Honestly? No,” she giggled in return. 

Their smiles and laughter died down after a few minutes, both of them remembering why they were sitting in the solar at the same time. Minfilia turned and glanced at the broken staff in its case upon the wall and sighed. “Tomorrow night is meant to be a celebration of all that we have accomplished, yet the thought of sitting in that room with all those people puts the taste of bitter ashes on my tongue.”

“Glad to see we feel the same way,” Carine remarked, her own eyes looking up at the staff and reflecting. “Nothing quite like spending an evening with a bunch of people happy to pat themselves on their own backs for everyone else to see.”

She saw no fault in her logic. Glad as she was to attend such a momentous occasion and all that it represented, Minfilia was still left with lingering doubt that a true alliance would form. No doubt the Holy See would see the meager units sent to give them aid as a sort of mockery against them. She felt as such when her request for their help had been met with such a response. And now they wished to congratulate themselves and each other for doing practically nothing?

‘Twas little wonder why Carine never found joy in politics.

“Should we tell Alphinaud what has happened?” Carine’s question distracted her from her thoughts and gave her pause to think. He would know soon enough, so there was no reason not to tell him, but would he believe his dream capable of corruption? 

She imagined it would be hard for him to grasp, but he wasn’t unreasonable. “‘Tis best we wait until after the banquet as well. He has enough on his shoulders, I do not wish to burden him further.”

“I still think it was a bad idea to put him in charge of such an endeavor.”

Minfilia sighed in agreement. In hindsight, it would have been better to be more careful with their selection or at least more cautious about where they accepted their finances from. That had been her doing as much as it had been Alphinaud’s though, as he had put her in charge of monitoring them. 

“Will you be off to your mother’s then?” she asked, swiftly changing the subject. It would do no good to linger on what ifs or devise plans against the man that was doing his best to undermine the Scions and the Braves if they could not be put to use.

“I suppose there is little else I can do for now,” Carine shrugged. 

“It will be good for the two of you to spend more time together. I admit to feeling guilty for forcing the two of you apart for so long. Just be sure to arrive in Ul’dah before the festivities begin.”

Carine assured her that she wouldn’t be late by reminding her she had successfully managed to secure a time with the Sultana before the party began. As she watched the Warrior of Light go, she couldn’t help but be impressed with the resolve she was showing in the face of yet another adversity. 

 

***

 

The Elezen let out a sigh of relief the moment she exited the solar. She hadn’t expected for one second Minfilia would believe that she had just suddenly turned a leaf and did things the responsible way. Of course, in a way she sort of  _ had. _ It was no lie that she had secured an audience with the Sultana, but only after she had arrived in Ul’dah to murder the bastard that had put her in this situation. Had it not been the Sultana’s personal handmaiden wondering why Carine was storming about the Royal Promenade, she probably would have found him and ended his sorry existence. 

The handmaiden had given her an alternative, one that was equally as sneaky and would likely surprise Teledji in its cleverness. Sure, she had to threaten the life of the woman to make sure the meeting would take place and assure her that she only needed to speak with her briefly, but ultimately it had worked in her favor because Nanamo had surprisingly agreed to her request.

That hadn’t quite been in her plans, but she wasn’t complaining. 

Back in her room, Carine pulled together some clothes to wear to her mother’s and a few other things. In the midst of her packing, she stumbled upon a sealed envelope that she knew hadn’t been there earlier this morning. Turning it over in her hands, she opened the missive to find a short note: 

 

_ Meet me at the station of Coffer and Coffin before the banquet tomorrow. There is something I must show you. - Alianne _

 

She looked for anything else, any other clue that might help her make sense of the message. Carine had only ever spoken with the Lieutenant a handful of times since her recruitment into the Crystal Braves, so why was she requested by her now?

_ The lass has been a bit quiet lately, keepin’ to her own. If Wilred’s gone missin’ because of somethin’ he found, might be in her best interest to remain that way. _

Riol’s words came unbidden in her mind and she clutched the parchment firmly in her hands. Alianne knew something, or at least knew more than anyone else currently. Mayhap she was finally willing to risk all to share that information with the one person that might have the right connections to set things right. 

Carine tucked the missive in her pocket and gathered the last of her things to set of for her mother’s. The last thing she wanted was anyone else finding the note and sabotaging the only other lead that she had available to her.

 

***

 

“This will all go by much faster if you would just remain still for a moment,” Elaine scolded her daughter, her voice muffled by the needles pinched between her lips. All she had left was a bit more hemming on the edge to keep the delicate fabric from getting caught on the ground or in her shoes as Carine danced the night away. 

Carine, on the other hand, had no interest in dancing  _ or _ remaining still for her mother’s finishing touches. She was running behind in leaving so she could make her way to Black Brush Station to meet with Alianne and see what needed to be shown to her. It was all she could think about all night as she tossed and turned in her bed. There was always the chance she was walking right into an ambush, but Alianne was not a member of the 1st or 3rd unit. She considered the chances of the former seasoned adventurer being out to kill her were slim to none. 

But she wasn’t one to take that chance. Foolish as it might be, the Warrior of Light had no intention of walking into that palace without having some form of protection on her. Weapons were banned within the Fragrant Chamber. It was meant as a form of protection for the Sultana as well as a symbol of trust between those that met in those halls. Should she be caught with such a weapon on her person, Carine would likely be tried for treason. 

The trick was to not get caught.

“There! Was that so hard?” Elaine looked up at her daughter through narrowed, blue eyes. 

“Yes, actually,” she grinned down at her. 

The dress was lovely, though it wasn’t quite on the same level as the navy gown she had worn the night she had learned of Ultima. It was a deep, rich green that didn’t hug her every curve. Instead, it formed nicely to her chest and torso before filling out into a wider skirt trimmed in white lace. It was both modest and striking and gave Carine enough room to hide at least one dagger on her thigh, much to her mother’s dismay.

“I pray you aren’t trying to get yourself into trouble, Darling,” she sighed as she strapped the leg sheath to her thigh. 

“Of course not,” Carine assured her with a peck on the cheek as her mother stood up from her stooped position. “You know I can’t go somewhere unprepared.”

“But this is a banquet, one being held in the honor of the Lord Commander of Ishgard,” Elaine reminded her. “Not to mention that no weapons are allowed…”

“I know, and if they decide to do a search I’ll just remove it and be on my way,” she replied happily. Sure, she was bound to get the side eye, but there would be a whole slew of Crystal Braves and Brass Blades and Immortal Flames that would have to remove their weapons at the door. Why should the Warrior of Light be any different?

Elaine sighed and shook her head. She wanted to protest and convince her daughter to just leave it all behind, but once Carine had something in her mind she was doing it. “Just, please be careful. I lost you once, I’d rather not do so again.”

“Melodramatic, are we?” her daughter grinned, her eyes lighting up in a way that reminded her of her late husband. When Elaine didn’t smile back, the curl of her mouth fell away until a serious expression had replaced it. “If it really means so much to you, I can forego the blades.”

Carine didn’t want to, but giving her mother peace of mind that all would be well was more than worth it if she had to feel naked for an entire night. When the elder Elezen nodded, she dutifully lifted her skirt and allowed her to take off the strap. 

There was no point in asking if she was happier, Carine could see it in the way she smiled as she tossed the dagger onto the bed and motioned for her to spin around so she could get a better look at her. “‘Tis not my best design, but you wear it well.”

“Mama, all of your designs are amazing. I’m sure well over half of those in attendance tonight will be wearing your work,” she replied. 

“Tell me, Darling, will Haurchefant be there?” Elaine asked as she began to unbutton the back of the dress so she could prepare it to be sent to the Hourglass for Carine to change into later. 

The younger snorted, “No. He’s still at Camp Dragonhead. ‘Tis only the dignitaries Ishgard is sending and he is but a knight and lord of House Fortemps.”

“You would think they would appreciate him a little more by inviting him, yes? Was it not he that saw your potential?” Elaine looked at her through the mirror with a raised brow.

“You of all people should know how Ishgardian culture works,” Carine rolled her eyes. “He’s a bastard. I doubt they would send him to a banquet of esteemed guests as a representation of him.”

Her mother couldn’t protest to that. “Still, I would love to see the look on his face seeing you dressed as an appropriate lady for once.”

It was a jest, and one that made Carine laugh as her mother smiled at her through the mirror. There were times Elaine knew when she needed to be distracted, and she was damn good at providing them at the right time. With all that had happened in the last few days, it was little wonder Carine had any sanity left to put forth tonight for all of Eorzea to see. 

“You’ll need someone to help you get in and out of this,” her mother went on as she carefully laid the dress upon the bed. “Are you sure you don’t wish for me to join you?”

“I’m sure. I have Yda and Y’shtola I can ask. I’m sure Minfilia would even help. If all else fails, Thancred will be more than willing-”

“Carine please!” Her mother sharply swatted her hand and glared at her in mock scolding. “Have some decency.”

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t all jest. Her mother had still been born and raised in Ishgard. Though she had pushed aside all she had ever known to raise her family poor in Gridania, there were pieces of her past she simply couldn’t let go.

“It was a joke.”

Elaine sighed dramatically and shook her head. “You best be getting ready to leave right away. Wouldn’t want you to be late, now would we?”

Carine kissed her cheeks and bid her farewell, thanking her all the while for giving her yet another dress to wear for yet another formal party that was sure to end in disaster.

 

***

 

Carine stood on the edge of the platform, her eyes gazing out as far as they could see over the dusty landscape. Flies buzzed nearby, her sweat beckoning to them like an oasis in the desert. She swatted at them, her irritation growing with each passing minute. There was still no sign of Alianne, no notes, no hint of the woman, and the sun was now beginning its descent in the west signaling it was past time for her to head back to the city and prepare for the banquet.

She paced along the stone platform, eyes and ears peeled for anything that might signal the approach of the woman that had requested her to meet here. The only thing that made the wait bearable was the breeze that cooled the sweat against her skin and kept her from getting too hot, but alas after a bell of waiting, she could wait no more. 

Sighing, Carine looked up to the sky and offered up a prayer to the gods. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was praying for; either Alianne’s safety or the hope that if she were the one behind this mess that she had found her punishment, but she prayed anyway. Looking down at her feet, she blinked in surprise at seeing a small vial there. 

“Carine? What are you doing out here?” She turned, tucking the vial in her pocket without a second thought to see Laurentius jogging toward her. 

“Ah, I was waiting on Alianne,” she replied. 

The former Wood Wailer looked out in the direction she was looking, eyes squinting in the light of the setting sun and shook his head. “Been on patrol here for several bells and I haven’t seen her,” he said. “Passed this place a half dozen times already.”

Carine frowned and shook her head. “‘Tis nothing, I guess. If it were important, she would be here.”

Laurentius nodded. “Aye, though shouldn’t you be returning to Ul’dah? The banquet is to be starting soon. Gods, all that wine and food and dancing. I envy you,” he smiled and bumped her arm. “But if there was any woman in the world that has earned this respite, it would be you.”

The Warrior of Light returned his smile and bumped him back, “Even though I had to arrest you?”

He tossed back his head and laughed with merriment, “Mayhap for that reason alone!”

“Ah, then I should sneak some sweetcakes to make up for it, yes?” 

“I’ll hold you to that, Carine. It really is time for you to go, though. If I see Alianne, I’ll pass the word that you were here waiting.”

“Thank you,” she said and gave him a salute. “Do try not to work too hard in this heat whilst everyone else gets drunk off their asses. ‘Tis hardly fair,” she winked as she turned to leave. Already she was trying to prepare for everything she needed to tell the Sultana for their meeting. 

Little did she feel the glare of eyes upon her back or see the malicious smirk as she followed the road that lead to the great city.


	41. Well...Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary is in the title lol

Laughter rang through the halls of the Chamber of Rule as crowds of people gathered together and awaited being let in. Most guests in attendance appeared to be members of the Ul’dahn elite, powerful merchants under the employ of the Monetarists that worked alongside the Sultana to bring peace and prosperity among their people. 

Carine glanced around, her lilac eyes peering into every face and quickly averting her gaze before they caught on that she would rather be anywhere else. Their blatant display of wealth was sickening and it served nothing more than to throw it in her face that there were plenty of wealthy people that could help the refugees outside their gate. Last she checked, which happened to be this afternoon, there were still droves of starving people begging for scraps.

She continued her stroll smiling at those that acknowledged her because that was what they expected. She was the Warrior of Light! She  _ must _ be pleased to be in our presence! It was enough to make her gag. The only time she felt remotely relaxed was when she caught sight of the other Scions standing alongside Ser Aymeric and his ever trusted companion, Lucia. 

Their height distinguished them from the majority of the others. Aside from Raubahn and Merlwyb, who were also standing in the crowd gathered around their Ishgardian friends, they stood a full head or more taller than the other guests. They were also both impeccably dressed in shining armor with not a single scratch or scrape to suggest they fight dragons on a daily basis. 

Carine paused just as she reached the outer ring, stopping beside Alphinaud who listened in on their conversation with intrigue and amusement. “Full willing are they now with their vaunted words after the fighting has ceased,” he said, glancing up at her with a bemused grin. “Would that they had been so willing when we had pleaded for their aid.”

“Come now, Alphinaud,” she smirked and leaned against a pillar. “They cannot be blamed for hiding behind their walls. We all know just how scary dragons are.”

The two chuckled to themselves at the leaders’ expense, not that they gave them any mind. They were far too engrossed in the praise the lord commander wrongly bestowed upon them. “Do you think be believes them?” the lad leaned closer and asked. 

“No, not for a moment.” This was nothing more than a formality between the nations, one set to act as a starting point in forging an alliance between them. Ser Aymeric was nothing if not formal. His actions and words spoke of a man that had recited them many times prior to this engagement and dressed them prettily so they would be better swallowed. No, he was no fool. Prim and proper and well spoken, yes, but not at all a fool.

As if he could hear her thoughts, the Elezen looked up and captured her gaze. The rich blue of his eyes beckoned her forth before the curl of his smile and wave of his hand. The crowd turned in unison to see who had captured his attention and gasped almost collectively as they beheld a well dressed Warrior of Light. 

_ I pray none of you get used to this, _ she thought to herself as she grasped at her dressed and walked forward in confidence to bow as she reached the lord commander. “Full glad am I you arrived well and whole,” she said as she offered her hand. 

“Haurchefant sends his regard and his love,” Aymeric leaned in and chastely kissed the top of her hand. “Would that he could see you this very moment.”

She had half a mind to mention something inappropriate, but this was not the time nor the place nor the company in which it would have been appreciated. “Be sure to tell him for me,” she said instead with a small smile. 

His answering smile promised he certainly would and she couldn’t help but beam at what she imagined the lord’s reaction would be. The moment was cut short as Lucia inserted herself between them, her green eyes looking past his shoulders to indicate there was someone else wishing for his attention. 

“Alas, I must move along it seems,” he smiled kindly while nodding to his second in command. “Might I ask that you save me a dance for later? Haurchefant was most insistent that I ask.”

A blush crept up her cheeks and a hint of anger nearly rolled off her tongue. That sneaky, clever,  _ ass! _ “I imagine he was,” she replied through gritted teeth. There was no doubt it was all good fun in his mind, a laughter to be had at her expense. She even imagined Aymeric would find the entire situation humorous once he learned of her two left feet, not that she had any intentions of showing him this night or any other. 

“Carine? There appears to be a woman interested in getting your attention,” Yda bumped against her and pointed to the Sultana’s lady-in-waiting. Carine recognized her at once and smiled broadly only for the mouse of a woman to shrink back in fear. Minfilia and Y’shtola both raised their brows to which she shrugged off. 

“What? I’m  _ intimidating,” _ she told them, casually leaving out the fact she had threatened the woman only a day prior to this event. 

She could feel their suspicious glances at her back as she followed the Hyur out of the halls and toward the Sultana’s personal chamber, an honor she hadn’t expected. Mayhap the ruler had taken to heart the urgency in which Carine had pressed the matter, or mayhap Her Grace wasn’t yet ready for the festivities. It was always in the best interest of royalty to be fashionably late. 

Carine waited patiently outside the door as the lady-in-waiting went inside to announce her arrival. The Elezen looked up at the guards, one Immortal Flame and one Brass Blade, both of them eyeing her cautiously as she examined them. Any attempts at conversation while she waited was met with stern silence and narrowed glares from both of them as if she hadn’t saved their asses more times than they could count. 

“The Sultana is ready to see you now,” the handmaiden said as she cracked open the door to allow her in. 

“Thank the Twelve,” Carine muttered under her breath, glad to be in better company.

The room was larger than she had imagined it to be, though she supposed that came from her preconceived notions that a Lalafell didn’t need nearly as much room as the other races. Nanamo was still royalty, after all, so it would stand to reason that she lived a lucrative lifestyle that stated such. Even so, despite the intricate filigree of golden thread woven into the black duvet that was spread neatly over the bed, the crystal chandelier that hung in the center of the room, and the golden accents that seemed to be a staple in all things Ul’dahn, there was a humbleness here she hadn’t expected. 

Soft plush toys sat upon the bed, and save for the elaborate decorations that could have been in this room since the beginning of the Sultanate, there was nothing to suggest that Nanamo took great pride in her wealth. 

“Welcome, Warrior of Light,” Nanamo said, smiling at her from the rounded table at which she sat. “Come, rest your feet and partake of the wine I have ordered for our discussion.”

Carine bowed and complied. Smoothing out her dress, she chose the seat opposite of the Sultana. Now that she was in her presence, the Elezen found it rather difficult to find the words she wished to say or give her the warning about the man that was a member of her Syndicate. “I-I imagine you are interested in knowing why I called upon you…”

Nanamo lifted a hand to silence her, her green eyes glittering in knowing. “I imagine that you and I are of the same mind, Carine,” she said and motioned for the handmaiden to bring the wine for them to share. 

Confusion worried at her brows as she watched the red liquid pour into each of their glasses. “Of the same mind? I don’t understand?” Did she already know of Teledji’s involvement with the Crystal Braves? Was she just as eager to see him taken into custody as she was? Ruler she might be, but it was difficult to imagine she had eyes and ears everywhere. 

“You have ever been a champion of the downtrodden,” Nanamo began, her eyes closing as she spoke. “From the moment you were drafted into that terrible mess we had foolishly allowed, you have sought to end the pain and suffering of all that were affected by the steel fist of the Empire. When others would cower behind pretty words and false deeds, you spoke against them openly without fear of their opinions. Would that I could have even an onze of your bravery…”

“I’m afraid the Antecedent would disagree,” Carine offered a small smile, the unexpected praise now burning the tips of her ears. “And I am not without my faults.”

“Of course not. None of us are, yet you continue to strive to rise above yours and leave the past where it should be. ‘Tis something I struggle with even now.”

She listened to her, body stiffening at the realization that the Sultana knew more than she was letting on. Given her relaxed demeanor and cheerful gaze, Carine was not wont to believe the woman meant ill by her. That did nothing to settle the nerves now settling within her belly. How much did she know? How did she feel about it? Why couldn’t she just come forward by now and tell her what she knew?

“There are few people these days I can trust, Carine. Fewer still that share the same beliefs as I.”

“Beliefs such as?” Carine allowed herself to ask hoping to prompt her into revealing more. 

Nanamo paused and swirled her glass, green eyes looking into its depths as she contemplated her next words with great consideration. “This celebration is not only to formally extend a hand to the Ishgardians in hopes of reforging the original Eorzean alliance, but to also for me to abdicate my throne and renounce my title as Sultana.”

Carine, who had just started raising her glass to her lips stopped and stared at her in disbelief. Carefully she set the glass back down and smoothed her hands over her dress, her mind whirring with the words spoken to her in great confidence. “Your Grace...I am humbled by your confidence in me, but I don’t understand. What do you hope to accomplish?”

“Long has Ul’dah suffered from the whims of the wealthy and entitled. You yourself has seen the turmoil wrought in our streets and how the government has failed and my subjects suffer the from our incompetence. ‘Tis my goal to see them suffer no longer, a goal I do believe in which we share.”

The Warrior of Light could not deny her surprise at being told such important information, information that if delivered into the wrong hands would induce even more chaos than dissolving the monarchy would. Yet she admired the Sultana. All this time Carine had blindly assumed that the woman was of little worth thanks to the lack of intervention on the refugees behalf. For her to be willing to give up  _ everything _ for the people of her great city spoke of bravery that she herself greatly lacked. 

“Your Grace, I know not what to say other than you have wrongly chosen to put your faith in me,” she admitted as she looked down at her twisting fingers. 

“I know of what happened at the Praetorium last year and I know that you still have a connection to Nero tol Scaeva,” Nanamo said.

 

***

 

Minfilia looked over the crowd, her pale eyes taking everything in. There was a worry that had settled deep within her, a constant state of dread that something would go terribly wrong though nothing she could compare to the feeling of an Ascian being nearby. As far as she could see, everyone was more than merry as they wined and dined amongst each other, the party starting without the Sultana or the Warrior of Light. 

“You appear worried, Antecedent,” Alphinaud approached and lifted his glass to her in a mock toast. “What troubles you?”

She shook her head and glanced around the room at the merriment granted by the precious reprieve. It had hardly been a month since the last event that could shake the world to its very core had occurred, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. “Nothing,” she admitted and allowed herself to relax and enjoy the ambiance. “Everyone appears to be in high spirits, it seems.”

“And with good reason,” he noted, following her gaze. 

“I must admit to having my doubts you and Carine would be capable of forging this path,” Minfilia went on. “You have brought us one step closer to a more united Eorzea.”

Alphinaud blushed, his cheeks and pointed ears reddening at her compliment. “Your modesty knows no bounds, Antecedent. Were it not for your efforts, I doubt Ser Aymeric would have so swiftly become a steadfast ally. Now ‘tis only a matter of time before he convinces his countrymen to rejoin the Alliance.”

“There is much to be gained,” Minfilia agreed, her mind focused on the military value that would serve as a force to give Garlemald greater pause in their attempts to subjugate them. There were other benefits to be had as well, but with the looming threat of the Empire, it was sometimes difficult to not find satisfaction in knowing they would not expect such a turn of events.

Alphinaud, already well versed in exactly how this alliance would benefit not only the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but the other nations, was quick to display his excitement and dream of the future. It was a dream they both shared equally and one that quickly swept them away with the possibilities. There was little doubt the lad was a dreamer. His ideals were wild and ambitious, the vision of a boy that knew no real hardship. Minfilia wanted to see to it he never did, but also wanted to guide him lest his ambitions get the best of him. Even now she worried over what the Crystal Braves had in stock from Teledji and how many of them had been purchased by the schemer.

“And should no solutions be found, I’ll have our trusty Warrior of Light box their ears,” he grinned. 

“No doubt Carine would love to box anyone’s ears,” the Antecedent agreed. She was always itching for a fight or shirking diplomatic responsibilities in favor of shooting something with her bow. 

“Speaking of whom,” Alphinaud looked around. “Where is our companion?”

“She had business with the Sultana,” she replied honestly, though she felt no reason to elaborate further. “Nothing urgent, I presume.”

Just then, one of the Crystal Braves approached the boy and knelt at his side whispering something just low enough the woman could not pick up on his words. The furrow of his brow and the following frown gave way to her budding curiosity. “Is aught amiss?” she asked as the Brave left them on a turn of his heel. 

He turned to her and smiled chasing away any and all doubts briefly. “Nothing to worry about. A small matter requires my attention. I shall return anon,” he replied before looking back at Ser Aymeric. “And do keep an eye on our ally there. He appears to be giving the alliance leaders a rather large head with his words, wouldn’t you agree?”

As he walked away, the feeling of dread returned tenfold quickening her heart and giving her reason to doubt that nothing was wrong. Minfilia turned her head back toward their Ishgardian allies wondering what this night truly had in store for them all. 

 

***

 

“So you knew about Nero?” Carine asked, picking at her nail beds. “How long?”

“Roaille informed Raubahn not long after he interrogated her personally,” Nanamo replied. “There is no need to fret, Carine. We hold no ill will toward you for your actions. ‘Tis your seemingly endless compassion that has earned my respect and your outspokenness for those that have long suffered under the oppressive thumb of the Empire that has earned you my respect and gratitude. I would not throw it away without due reason.”

“And lying about keeping a Garlean general alive isn’t reason enough?” Lilac eyes looked up in hesitation. 

Nanamo shook her head, the jewels dangling from her crown clinking pleasantly against the metal as she did so. “Not at all. If you had any allegiance to the Garleans, I have no doubt you would be living comfortably in Garlemald than rallying for those that have suffered from them,” she smiled in reassurance. 

“I could be like the Ivy,” Carine retorted, though she wished she hadn’t. What was she thinking giving them an excuse to suspect her of treason?

“This is meant in no offense, but you are well known for acting without thinking. If you had any plans against the Alliance in favor of the Empire, you would have long since shown your hand.”

The Warrior of Light scowled knowing full well she was right. She didn’t like being so easy to read or understand or predict, but it seemed that everyone was so quick to forget that she had been a double agent a year ago. Maybe it was easy to consider that she had done it to benefit the realm, but there was a time Carine was quite comfortable with the idea of being married to Nero so long as it meant her mother was safe. 

She just didn’t want to bring that back to light when so much trust had been given.

“But it is not this knowledge I wished to make you aware of,” Nanamo went on. “Nor is it the reason I agreed to this meeting of yours in the first place. As you can imagine, the moment I step forward and dissolve the Sultanate, there will be chaos and confusion. It is to be expected after generations of monarchy rule, but I would have the people know my vision for the future of Ul’dah is to create a republic for which the common folk shall work alongside the ruling body. ‘Tis mine intent to keep the power over this golden city out of the hands of a privileged few.”

“As commendable as this vision is, Your Grace, and I mean no offense, but wouldn’t the resulting chaos make things worse than better?” Carine asked. Her immediate worry was for the people outside the gates of the city. They were unaware and mostly unarmed making them the perfect targets for any disgruntled Monetarist to use as leverage against the Sultana. There was no doubt in her mind that at least one certain individual would go to such lengths to get his way.

Nanamo’s wide eyes fell, the weight of the eventual fallout from her actions pushing her down and forcing her to exhale with a lingering sigh. “I am well aware of the chaos that will ensue. That which I propose will tear the very foundation of this great nation apart. I know even Raubahn in all his strength and willpower will be hard-pressed to maintain his ground in the wake of this decision,” she lifted her eyes and looked upon the Warrior of Light nearly pleading with her. “‘Tis why I granted you this audience, Warrior of Light. I know ‘tis not what you expected, nor likely what you wished to tell me when you cornered my handmaiden and threatened her to deliver this note to me, but I would ask a favor of you that I have no right in asking. Would you lend him a steadying hand? You who have endured the wrath of the innumerable foes in our stead are the one true hero in which I can place my trust. Would you do this for me?”

Emotion wavered the Sultana’s voice, her plea made clear by the fear she had for the man that would suffer the worse from her abdication and not for what would happen to her. As much as it pained her to agree to such a plan, Carine couldn’t bring herself to reject her request. Both Raubahn and Nanamo had ever had faith in her even when their peers had none. Even now they trusted her knowing of her lie and the necklace that hung from her neck. 

“I will do all in my power to lend him my strength, Your Grace,” she bowed her head. 

The glitter of unshed tears along the rim of her eyes was enough to know that she had offered a great relief to the other woman. “I am eternally grateful. More grateful than you will ever know,” Nanamo smiled as she lifted her glass of wine to her lips. “You have quieted much of my dread for the coming days, so thank you.”

“Glad am I to help,” Carine smiled as she lifted her own glass and contemplated everything that was to come as she swirled the contents within. “Tell me, Your Grace, what are your plans once you step down? Your Grace?” She turned her eyes to see the shocked expression of the Sultana staring up at the ceiling. Carine looked around, hand hesitating at reaching across the table when the glass fell from her hands and clattered onto the rich, ornate rug at their feet. 

“Your Grace?!” Her voice had become panicked as the Lalafell clutched frantically at her throat pulling at the lace that seemed to be choking her. Magic, she needed healing magic...but her skill level was not enough to cure poisoning. No matter how many times she recited the spell, there was nothing she could do to help the Sultana as she fell to the floor. 

_ Oh Blessed Nophica! Gods no! _ She exclaimed, fingers shaking as they sought a pulse.  _ Please don’t be dead. Gods, please don’t be dead! _

She was hardly aware of the door to the chambers opening behind her or the sounds of even footfall echoing as several other people entered the room. Carine was far too busy with trying to breathe life back into the woman in her lap that she couldn’t be bothered to see who had come to help upon hearing her cries of desperation. 

A gasp finally was what alerted her to no longer being alone followed by an exclamation that sounded all too familiar. Carine turned to find Teledji Adeledji with his hands raised dramatically in the air and his mouth formed into a perfect ‘o’ as he looked between her and the Sultana in her lap.

“Your Grace?!” 

Carine was torn between begging and pleading for his help or strangling him where he stood, but desperation won out as she looked back at the dying woman in her arms. “I-I don’t know what happened. She was fine but a moment ago…”

“You! You did this!” he pointed his finger at her, an expression of rage clouding his child-like features. 

“What? No! I would never-”

“Spare us your denial!” he spat. “I see no one else in this room and there is but one entrance.”

She wanted to argue, to explain what had happened, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. His blatant disregard of her telling gave her pause. He didn’t  _ want _ to hear the truth. He didn’t  _ want _ to believe that someone could have switched out the wine or had it delivered before she ever got there. He didn’t  _ want _ her seeking the handmaiden that had poured their glasses nor did he want to test her own glass to see if it was poisoned as well. He was beyond himself with grief, and she couldn’t blame him for placing the blame on her.

“I hereby accuse you of regicide. Men! Arrest this viper at once!”

Carine closed her eyes and offered her wrists willingly. She had but to explain herself to someone clear of mind that had not been surprised by finding the Sultana dead as he had. Anger aside, there was nothing that could be done for her but to go willingly and comply with every order given. Roughly they grabbed her arms and yanked them behind her back needlessly. She offered no complaint, and likely wouldn’t have had it not been for the evil sneer the Lalafell gave her as she was shoved out of the room. 

Realization dawned on her that she had just willingly fallen into his carefully laid trap. He hadn’t wanted her to explain herself because he knew damn well what the truth was. Now she was bound tightly with her arms behind her back and unable to fight against the Brass Blades that fell into formation around her. 

_Well...shit._..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left for me to wrap up this arc! It's been taking a long time and I pray that I can get it finished before the week is up and do it justice!


	42. Legacy of a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carine's past comes back to haunt her in the worst of ways.

Minfilia watched with tilted brow as Aymeric and Lucia were escorted rather abruptly from the banquet. The feeling of unrest settled deep within her breasts at the announcement that Ishgard was yet under another attack, a  _ surprise _ attack, by the Dravanians. They had seemed unsure, both of them admitting they had heard no such thing from their officers, but it had been a risk they were not willing to take. 

The Antecedent could hardly blame them and had even offered to send a unit of Crystal Braves to assist, but had been denied. This was their party after all, a celebration held in the Scions’ honor for all they had done to pave the way toward a future where Ishgard might unite with the rest of Eorzea once again. Promises to send word once they knew of the situation had been exchanged and then they were gone. 

The unrest did not follow.

Her pale blue eyes scoured the room for any sign of Carine or Alphinaud, their lack of presence becoming more unsettling with each passing minute. She was sure if she could just see them once, it would be enough to quell her growing concern, but only the curious faces of Y’shtola, Papalymo, and Yda stared back. 

“Is it just me, or have the festivities seemed to sour?” the Miqo’te asked under her breath. It was both a relief and a burden to know that Minfilia was not the only one to feel the beginnings of a storm brewing within the chamber, even if the rest of the patrons were chatting animatedly amongst each other with growing enthusiasm. 

“Have you not heard from Carine?” she asked in turn only for the Miqo’te to shake her head. There was no point in asking after Alphinaud, Minfilia already knew she had been the last to see him besides the Crystal Braves. 

A commotion outside the grand double doors that lead to the Chamber of Rule halted their hushed conversation and dragged their attention to the front of the room. Conversations died on the tongues of the other merchants and nobles that were in attendance as more soldiers marched in taking the place of those that had left. This time, the metallic sound of armor rang from the backs of Brass Blades and Crystal Braves alike as they followed in formation, filling the void and empty spaces created by the people within. Fearful gasps and wide eyes met the soldiers who were not supposed to be permitted within the hall for duration of the banquet.

“Let me go, you sonofabitch!” Carine snarled as she was brought forth through the doors kicking and fighting against the restraints that tied her hands behind her back. Her dress was ripped and tattered in a few places where it had likely caught against the sharp points of armor adorning the Brass Blades currently holding her. 

More gasps, this time in outright fear and bewilderment, erupted throughout the chamber as guests recognized the Warrior of Light within custody. Fervent whispers slipped from lip to ear like water flowing through a brook as eyes gazed wide and uncertain at the events unfolding around them. 

Minfilia couldn’t help but be shocked speechless at the sight of the Warrior of Light fighting her bindings. She was wild, enraged, a beast caught in a snare and snapping with fierce jaws at those that held her at arm’s length. There were very few instances the Antecedent had seen such raw emotion from the woman, that for her to display them now before an entire room meant something terribly wrong had happened. 

“Explain yourself!” Raubahn’s deep, brassy voice was the only thing that managed to distract the struggling Elezen long enough to recognize her surroundings. Minfilia was no stranger to seeing such passion stem forth from the woman, it was a common occurrence in their line of work when emotions ran high, but this was something else entirely. 

Her pale eyes were wide, white-hot anger boiling behind them. There was no doubt in the Antecedent’s mind that if the Warrior of Light were freed from her shackless her rage would consume her until she had committed an unthinkable act toward the Lalafell standing in front of her. When she looked to Raubahn however, her eyes turned into despondent orbs full of sorrow so deep Minfilia could feel it within her bones. 

_ By the Twelve, what happened? _

“I would echo that same question,” Merlwyb said, her voice hard and cutting like the diamonds in the chandelier that hung overhead. “Why is the Warrior of Light in custody?”

“Why indeed!” Teledji chuffed and threw an accusing glare at the silent general awaiting his response. “Were you doing your job, it would not have fallen to me to capture this traitor within our midst!”

Y’shtola looked to Minfilia, brows pinched with question. The Antecedent had no answers for her however, as she knew not what he was speaking of. Outspoken as Carine could be, Minfilia doubted she would have done anything reckless enough to warrant his attention. She had far too much to lose and had expressed great concern that her past choices would affect the Scions. As far as she and the others knew Carine had been far too busy to get into trouble, especially now that she had taken up with Lord Haurchefant.

“And tell me, what crimes has she committed?” Kan-E-Senna asked. Unlike the other nations, the Elder Seedseer had an invested interest in what the Warrior of Light did. She was a representation of Gridania in her eyes just as she was a representation of the Scions. 

“Glad am I that you have asked, Seedseer, for her crimes against our nations are numerous.”

Minfilia was acutely aware that Papalymo and Yda had taken their places by her side. Y’shtola’s ears and tail flicked at the sudden change in air as the Lalafell took the floor. His confidence festered the growing dread within her heart, her every sense telling her to escape now before it was too late. Were it not for the forlorn expression Carine now wore, she very well might have.

Tense silence filled the room and weighed heavily upon each individual standing under the golden tapestries and decadent decor. Disbelieving looks were exchanged between the merchants and the servants, their eyes sweeping from Teledji Adeledji and their Warrior of Light. Not a one of them could fathom that the woman now bound in chains had committed crimes, she had done far too much to prove her heart was in the right place, yet one of their own that assisted in ruling the capital of Thanalan held her at the end of his pointed finger. 

Teledji grinned with sinister intent, grey eyes hooded with scheming as he let the silence to its work and pry at the feeble minds of the most important people in all of Eorzea. He knew,  _ gods _ he knew, that pauses such as these did nothing but erect half walls for those eager to hear how he might come to such a conclusion. He could see it from where he sat as Merlwyb and Kan-E-Senna looked to each other with puckered brow and the way whispers soon began to fill the silence providing answers or accusations of their own. 

“These are bold claims,” the Admiral was the first to step forward, the heel of her boot clicking against the stone floor as she made her statement. “I pray you have proof.”

His lip curled. He had all the proof he needed, but it was now not the time to reveal his entire hand, oh no. While the members of the Syndicate were already eager to see what he had in store for the pesky Warrior of Light, the Leaders and the common people were the ones he needed to convince there was no need to question him further. 

“I would not make such claims if I did not have sufficient proof, Admiral,” he bowed and softened his expression into that of pain and disappointment. “I wish I had no reason to make such claims at all.”

The effect worked on the lesser individuals of the common merchants he had strategically implanted within the party. Though they knew not his ultimate goal, the gossip and rumors they would spread would work in his favor. To see him disheartened by what he had to do would spur them into believing everything he was about to say, truth or falsehood. 

“I recently came into possession of reports in regards to the investigation of the Ivy,” he folded his chubby arms behind his back and began shaking his head. “You can imagine my surprise when I discovered our Warrior of Light was holding on to quite the scandalous secret.”

“Make your point,” Merlwyb’s pale eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. 

He held up his hand and agreed with her lest he invoke further irritation from the woman and close off her ears to everything else he had left to say. “Of course, Admiral. Tell me, what do you think became of Nero tol Scaeva?”

The flash of acknowledgement in Raubahn’s eyes was enough proof for the Lalafell to realize his spy had been correct; the general was  _ quite _ aware of what the Warrior of Light had done and hadn’t done anything to rectify that wrong. It was a good choice then, that he had disposed of the Sultana straightaway before bringing forth this claim. The two of them would have easily convinced the other leaders no wrong had been committed. As it happened, Raubahn was now cornered nicely with the rest of them. 

It couldn’t have worked out better.

Kan-E-Senna was the next to furrow her brow and look to him with a lack of conviction. Her gentle, slow way of speaking captured everyone’s attention as she recounted what everyone thought was truth. “He perished at the Praetorium along with Gaius van Baelsar and Livia sas Junius.”

“Ah, but that, my friends, is where you would be mistaken.” Teledji turned on his heel and made eye contact with Carine who, if looks could have killed, would have murdered him in front of an entire room. “Tell me, Warrior of Light. The necklace about your neck, how did you happen upon it?”

Carine’s face paled, her heart racing within her chest as she looked down to the thick chain that disappeared down the front of her dress. How could he have known what it was? It wasn’t as though she had it clearly on display for everyone to see and question, and as far as she knew, no one had seen it enough to inquire. 

She wet her lips and looked up to the Scions desperately, but alas, they could offer none without damning themselves in the process. Instead, she held her tongue and defiantly stared Teledji in his eyes. One wrong move, one step too close, and the Lalafell would find an end quicker than he could ever anticipate. 

“Courel got your tongue?” he tilted his head, giving her a moment to change her mind and answer the question. When it became clear she would say nothing, he sighed and motioned to the Brass Blade holding her. He reached to her neck and pulled the ring hidden between her breasts in a way that brought shame to her cheeks and made her turn away. “As you can see, our Warrior of Light wears her wedding band, the very same one given to her the day of her marriage to Nero tol Scaeva.”

Carine was about to open her mouth and tell them all it was  _ not _ the same ring as she had effectively broken that one against a wall in his apartment, but shut it immediately when she realized she would have only added to his fodder against her. 

“Is this true?” Merlwyb raised a white brow and looked at her with speculation. There was no use in lying to the woman, not when there was the chance Teledji could call her out on it and prove she had given a falsehood. Being caught in a lie would have been much worse than admitting she had kept an artifact of a time where she was a different person, unsure of what to do or who to trust. 

“Aye, ‘tis true.”

Gasps tore from the throats of the nearest onlookers and they stepped back as if the admission had lashed out at them like a wild beast poised for the kill. Carine ignored their fear, her eyes focused once again on Teledji whose face was a mask she could not read. He seemed unfazed by the truth she had admitted and the fault she had claimed as he twisted one of his whiskers between two fingers. 

If he wanted to play games and make her appear a liar, Carine was prepared to win. 

“And remind me of the purpose of that ring? Ah, but the Antecedent could answer that, could she not?” he turned to Minfilia and gestured for her to answer. 

“We are all aware the ring was used to track and locate her while she was outside the castrum,” Merlwyb tightened her jaw. “Though I might have a question as to how it came back into your possession, Warrior of Light. It was to my understanding you had left it behind so the Garleans would not know where you had escaped to.”

“A  _ wonderful _ question, Admiral!” Teledji beamed and turned back with pointed finger. “How  _ did _ you come into possession of something you claimed to no longer have?”

Panic fluttered her heart and shortened her breath as she tried to think of anything that might save her from the truth. To admit she had received it from Nero was to admit she had lied about his death, or at least wrongly allowed them to think he had been killed by her hand. To admit that was to admit she had no credibility. 

But she couldn’t tell them she  _ hadn’t _ seen the man recently. There were enough witnesses with the Sons of Saint Coinach to tell them all they had seen a tall, blond man who had referred to her as  _ wife _ on nearly a daily basis when uncovering the truths buried within the Crystal Tower. If Teledji had managed to find even a handful of those scholars, or Rambroes, they would no doubt give their recount without any inkling they had aided in Nero’s escape. 

“Nero...bestowed it upon me-”

“And  _ when _ did this happen?” Teledji prodded her, earning a sidelong glare she wished would end his miserable existence. 

“When I was aiding the Sons of Saint Coinach at the Crystal Tower,” Carine spat at his feet. 

For the first time since Teledji’s grand entrance, both Kan-E-Senna and Merlwyb displayed reactions other than pure skepticism. The podjal’s green eyes went wide with utter disbelief and the Roegadyn startled, echoing the surprise of her partner. 

Teledji ‘tsked and shook his head as he strategically placed himself between the leaders of the Alliance and the Warrior of Light bound behind him. It was another trick to keep the woman from explaining herself further lest she chip away at the delicate balance he was putting in his favor. “If he were truly dead as we had all believed, how is it he was at the Crystal Tower alive and well some six moons ago?”

Y’shtola scoffed and muttered under her breath, but the silence that filled the room carried her whispered word to the Lalafell and reminded him that there was still the matter of the Scions he needed to take care of, if his master plan was to work. There might be enough reasonable doubt to bring the Warrior of Light down a notch or two, but it would do little good if he could not stop the Scions of the Seventh Dawn from convincing the others he was up to something. 

“Convenient you say?” he huffed and pointed at the white haired Miqo’te whose teal eyes now flashed at him. “Speaks one of the Scions that helped cover this secret, did you not? Tell me true, did the Scions of the Seventh Dawn know of her lies and keep them from our ears? Did we not  _ deserve _ to know the woman who claimed to be protecting us from the very people she coerced with?”

Minfilia wasted not a moment as she stepped between the fuming Lalafell and her friend, pale blue eyes hardened as she looked him down, but it was Carine who stopped her from answering.

“They did not know until recently,” the Elezen cried out. “‘Tis not their fault I went against orders.”

Voices began to rise as angry shouts filled the Fragrant Chamber. Members of the banquet argued amongst themselves choosing sides and berating those that did not immediately agree with them. Anger turned into madness and madness became chaos as their shouts became almost unbearable. It wasn’t until Raubahn roared, his bellow deafening those near him and silencing those far away that any semblance of control returned to the chamber. 

His broad chest heaved under heavy, golden armor. His dark eyes glowered upon the scheming Lalafell that stood center of it all. His jaw tightened as he looked to the people behind him so eager to toss aside all the Warrior of Light had done and shake his head with disappointment. 

“Have you the memory of a goldfish?” he accused them all with heated breath. “Are we to just toss out her accomplishments against the Empire and our Primal foes because she had made one decision in the heat of battle?”

“Have  _ you _ forgotten, General, that it was  _ she _ that suggested we implement Garlean structure into our daily lives? Was it not  _ she _ that believed us to be lesser than the race of her husband because we refused to stoop to their level? Have you not considered that ring about her neck was a means to instruct her on how to make us complacent while the Empire gathered their forces to move upon us again?”

It wasn’t the falsehood of his claims that silenced the man, but the fact that there was not a person in this room aside from those that knew the truth of the matter that could argue his claim. None of them knew enough to disagree and none of them were confident enough in her to keep faith she had done nothing wrong.Her past actions, minor as they were at the time, had come back in the worst of ways to mark her as a traitor to her homeland. 

“And if you think this the worst of her crimes, I tell you there are more,” Teledji went on, yet again diverting the subject of conversation back to himself to keep everyone on edge and listening. “Though in this heinous act, she had need of assistance. Have you yet noticed there is a key member of our Syndicate missing from these very walls? Why, has no one  _ bothered _ to check upon Her Grace?”

To see Raubahn come to realize the implication of Teledji’s word was to see complete and utter destruction of a man. One by one his defenses fell; his face paled, his shoulders tensed, his gaze flicked over the crowd. Without another word he began to march straight for the Sultana’s quarters until another set of strong arms stopped him in his path. 

“Be still, brother. You do not wish to see her so,” Ilberd rumbled reassuringly in his ear. Where he had come from, no one rightly knew. Mayhap he had been there the entire time, not that Minfilia or the other’s could have recalled. “For what it helps, the poison took her quickly.”

Carine pinched her eyes shut and prayed as hard as she could that Hydaelyn might hear and grant her strength. Her heart fair sang with her pleading to the heavens in desperation, body yearning for the return of power bestowed upon her by a dying goddess. Lips moved silently, the need to feel the words in her mouth as they spilled forth growing stronger with every moment that passed as everyone looked for the Sultana that wasn’t there.

But if Hydaelyn heard her, She did not care to answer. 

Raubahn’s howl shattered her heart, his cries of sorrow stabbing her repeatedly as he dropped to his knees and relinquished control over his emotions. Tears sprang into Carine’s eyes at the sight of the broken man just fulms from where she stood, his fists pounding against the stone with each desperate ‘no’ he plead. 

“You  _ murdered _ the Sultana?” Merlwyb’s eyes flashed dangerously, her fingers poised meaningfully over the holster of her gun at her side. 

Of course  _ now _ they would believe what the shit of a Lalafell had to say, and no amount of telling them otherwise would change their minds after they had been made up. 

“Are you really so eager to believe everything he spouts?” Y’shtola’s tail flicked in agitation, her cat-like ears pinned against her head. “What reason would Carine have to kill the Sultana?”

“What reason indeed!” Teledji, who was seemingly unbothered by the distress he had already caused leapt at the opportunity to continue on his tirade. “It is to my understanding that Her Grace made it known she  _ knew _ of the Warrior’s lies to the Antecedent. Uncanny, is it not, that a few days later a banquet was to be held in their honor?” he went on, his voice rising ever higher. “And to think, just the other day Carine had come to the palace in a rage and dared  _ threaten _ the Sultana’s handmaiden to grant her request to see the Sultana  _ alone _ right before the banquet. And you spoke of  _ coincidence.” _

The Scions looked to Carine in surprise, this news being new to them and certainly not working in their favor to keep the peace. 

_ You just had to get angry and lash out, didn’t you? _ Carine closed her eyes.  _ Gods, am I a fool. _

There was no coming back from this. There was no turning this around. The damage had already been done and their fates had been written in the stars. She had fucked up,  _ more _ than fucked up. Every little thing she had considered of no consequence was suddenly thrown in her face as proof of accusation and every good deed she had made was long forgotten. 

How could one believe someone they thought a liar? How could one forgive someone they thought a murderer?

“There there, dear General,” Teledji crooned at the shoulder of the great man beside him. “‘Tis long past time the Bull went out to pasture. Not to worry though, we within the Syndicate will do our best to rule Thanalan in the way Her Grace would have wanted.” His soothing tones caressed the grieving general while simultaneously making a mockery of him. “We would even allow you to plan her funeral. I could think of no one better-”

As the Lalafell went on, he failed to notice the sudden darkness that had fallen over the still form of the man he was attempting to “comfort”. Carine had noticed the change in the air, her violet eyes rising in time to give warning to the fool that had become drunk off his confidence. Every muscle within his body tensed and coiled, like a deadly predator about to make its attack. She could have shouted, could have warned him, could have said  _ anything _ to prevent the actions that were to follow. 

The sharp shrill of steel pulled from sheath rang out just before blade arced in the air and sank into flesh…

Followed by a scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for delay of the final chapter! And for the cliffhanger <.< >,>
> 
> I want to thank each and every one of you for your continued support. Without you, I never would have chugged along and completed ANYTHING! Every comment, every kudos, every hit is a blessing to me and a reason for me to continue to try and get better. I will likely be slowing down on posting stories from here on out because, as you all know, life gets in the way. That doesn't mean I don't have things in the works! My plan is to write the next arc to the Ties that Bind (titled Fall of a Hero) before posting anything. As of right now, I have over half of a Carine/Nero soulmate fic in the works as well as To Love Hot Chocolate and Black Coffee to finish. There may even be another modern AU featuring fake dating *eyebrow waggle* 
> 
> My addiction with these two is far from over and this story is FAR from concluding. Here's to 2019 (I know it's March already hehehe) and all the FFXIV stories it will bring!


End file.
